


Yu-topia Gentleman's Club

by Aradellia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Chris is a skater and a stripper, Confident Katsuki Yuuri, Flashbacks, Gratuitous Russian, Inappropriate Erections, JJ is a bartender don't ask why, M/M, Slow Burn, Stripper Yuuri, The stripper AU everyone wanted after episode 10, Victor's still a skater, here comes the plot, mila and georgi are skaters, surprise yuuris also a skater, yurio cares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-07 12:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8800453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aradellia/pseuds/Aradellia
Summary: Victor hadn't exactly wanted the end of his long training day to finish at the bottom of a glass alongside his friend Chris, however he hadn't expected Chris to drag him to a strip club, of all places. Of course, he also hadn't expected to be introduced to one of the most alluring and blinding dancers he had ever seen in his life.He would have to thank Chris later once the show was over.





	1. A Trip to Yu-topia

**Author's Note:**

> Did the fandom call for the stripper au fanfictions?

"Oh, come on, Victor! Do I have to carry you with me this time? I will carry you over my shoulder even if I'm still in my skates."

Victor sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. Of course, Chris would push and push for them to go out after training. It had been a long, strenuous day of practicing new jumps and possible new choreography, and he was sore from hitting the ice one too many times attempting the Quad Loop for nearly an hour straight. He was sure he had bruises up and down his sides from the hits. Chris looked perfect - of course he did, he wasn't catching the pick of his skate on the ice constantly - after the long hours of practice save for the sweat dripping down his brow, the heavy breath lifting his chest, and his hair tussled by the exercise. All he would need is a shower and maybe some work on his eyebrows to look like he hadn't trained from sunrise to sunset.

"Chris, can't this wait another night? I need to relax tonight."

"Oh, my dear friend, you will be  _absolutely_  relaxed if you come with me. I promise you." Chris purred, patting Victor's head before setting off the ice and grabbing for his skate guards.

Victor knew how Chris would work his way into his head, convince him to go, and he wasn't up for the mind games thanks to the throbbing of his bruises. He slicked back his hair, blinking hair back as it slid back over his eyes, and leaned against the railing.

"Alright, Chris. I'll join you."

Chris bounced on his skates, thrusting his fist in the air before grinning and offering a hand to the exhausted Russian.

"Come on then, Victor. We have one more person to grab before we head out."

Victor's expression flattened, staring art him with dead eyes. "Chris, we need showers we smell awful."

"Showers, a change of clothes, some cash, and grabbing our other party member are on our to-do list. Then we'll head out."

"That's better."

* * *

 

"So how did you get roped into this, Mila?" Victor asked curiously, adjusting his jacket as the trio walked through the city.

Mila shoved her hands into her jean pockets, shrugging softly as Chris flipped through his phone. It wasn't certain how, when, or why Mila had been convinced by Chris to join him in a trip to who knows where in the city. Victor kept his eyes on the streets they walked down, noting that a surprising amount of wealthy-looking people were moving through the streets at this time of night. A curious clue, one that didn't seem to faze Chris at all as they walked. However, as they turned down another street, and neon lights began to flash dully, the clues clicked in all at once. the businessmen walking the streets, trying to hide their presence, the neon colors and the muted music around the corners of the streets. It all made sense now.

"Chris."

"Hm?"

"Why are we in the Redlight District?"

Mila chuckled, catching Victor's eye as something mischievous entered her blue eyes, clouding them in a deadly haze. Another clue clicked into place as she paused in her stride, Chris taking a few extra steps before stopping and turning to the wide-eyed Russian as he put together the puzzle.

"You're in on this, Mila?"

She smirked. "Absolutely."

"Betrayer! I call foul, that's not fair!" Victor pouted, faking a tear as if stung by the news that his sister on ice had betrayed him to pair up with Chris for such an operation filled with deception.

"I'm sorry, Victor. I'm on Chris' side this time. He's got something good in store for you."

"And I do. Do you not trust me, Victor?" Chris asked, pulling out his best pouty lip, "Come on! I promised you it would be relaxing. You know me, I'm not one to trick."

"You're... right, but I'm still cautious. Why the redlight?" Victor asked, eyeing Chris as Mila as they continued walking.

He should have realized with the words 'relaxation' and 'redlight'. Chris chuckled as they approached a building blaring music from within, a line wrapping around the building. There was business here, and a lot of it. Guards stood at the doors ushering those in that could enter as patrons left and came as they pleased. Those in the front of the line whined as some simply were allowed it. He recognized the place immediately, having always passed it when he got the chance to explore the city and its treasures but never had the chance, or honor, to enter its doors.

"Yu-topia Gentlemen's Club?" Victor questioned, reading the sign, "A strip club, Chris?"

"Yes! There's someone here I want you to meet, and since I work here, we won't have to wait in that horrendous line. JJ, baby!"

Victor watched alongside Mila as Chris hailed one of the men stepping out, dressed obviously as a worker of the gentlemen's club with flashy shirt, half-open and unbuttoned, and his work badge pinned to the belt loop of his pants. The man was a complete unknown to the Russian duo, letting Chris do the talking as he rapidly talked with the boisterous man. Victor took the moment to admire at least the fact that this man, JJ, was easy on the eyes. Gentle undercut black hair, paired with that half-open red glitter shirt? Not a bad combination, especially with his skintone. It was attractive, and worked well with the scenery he put himself in. Perhaps this would be a decent night after all if the sights were this good. Chris spoke a little longer until JJ pushed open the doors for them, earning a dubious sound of the Swiss' mouth.

Mila looked at Victor with something akin to fear. Was it a moan? It didn't sound right, but they would move past it for now.

"You're amazing, JJ. Remind me I owe you one later, alright?"

"I'll call you later, Chris~ Now get it before the line starts throwing things at you. Go on, go on!"

Ushered in on the boos of those waiting in line, the atmosphere of the club surrounded Victor immediately. The heavy pounding of the bass as electronic swing music blared through the speakers, the laughter and chatter of excited patrons as they fawned over dancers on the stages, shouting for another piece of clothing off a dancer on one of the many scattered stripper poles, the low beam lights swinging over the large establishment's two layers. Lights were dimmed down for the night as the air filled with the smell of sweets, perfume, alcohol, and sweat.

Waitresses flowed through the crowds moving in and out, carefully balancing drinks of all colors, smells, and sizes of drinks and foods to the patrons of their club. Victor had to be honest to himself, however. If it weren't for the half-naked men and woman dancing, it would be a pretty good nightclub to sink into for the night. However, the sight of the dancers, both regular and those swinging around and against the stripper poles, made this atmosphere and place entirely better.

"You're getting into it easy, Victor." Chris called out softly, pulling the Russian farther into the intoxicating air. Victor smiled as his eyes wandered, taking in the sights of the dancers, the smell of alcohol, and the music pounding through him.

"Alright, you have good tastes, Chris."

Chris blushed, taking hold of Victor's left arm. "Why thank you. Now, what I want you to see is deeper within. Ah, Mila, you joining us?"

Mila was already grabbing a drink when the boys spotted her again, her eyes elsewhere as they called out to her. She looked to them idly, curious but not enough to move closer.

"I'll stay here. I spotted something I like so I'm going on a hunt. Have fun, Victor." she called out over the music, winking as she disappeared into the crowds with a bounce in her step.

Victor had a feeling that Mila would disappear on them, and from the sigh Chris heaved, he knew as well. Chris pulled him through the crowd, pausing ever so often to dissuade a coworker from dragging him into the back to change into something to work. Victor seemed to help his arguments and, while he couldn't understand the surprised looks he was given, continued forward with Chris behind one of the wide drawn curtains. Behind it, a new party brewed with a private bar, a seated crowd, and a large circular stage complete with stripper pole. The music here was lighting his body on fire, a thrill rolling up his spine in anticipation for what would be on stage.

"Notice anything, Victor?"

Chris' voice snapped him out of the hypnosis of the music, his eyes coming to the crowd. Back and forth, he looked through the room in curiosity.

Most of the crowd was populated with woman. A few men spotted the crowd, but it was a woman majority.

"Chris... what's going on?"

A chill suddenly replaced the warmth that had inhabited his body. However, Chris' gentle squeeze of his arm burned it away. Chris seated him at one of the empty tables smack in the middle of the crowd, a few rows from front and center of the stage. He still was in front of it, but it wasn't a front row seat. Chris sat next to him as the lights started to dim, the cries of the crowd rising as the DJ stepped onto the stage, climbing through the crowd. The woman swept shockingly bright purple eyes over the crowd, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder.

"Such a large crowd! Ladies, and gentlemen, welcome to Yu-topia. My regulars! Give a cheer, please."

Much of the crowd roared out in applause as the woman raised her right hand, grinning as she spun her mic around, giggling as the sound dropped.

"But calling this sacred place simply 'Yu-topia' isn't right, though." her words with met with shouts of agreement. "Let me correct my error, then! Welcome, valued patrons of Yu-topia, to the Hot Springs!"

Victor gasped realizing then where he sat as the crowd roared, many standing and holding up crisp bills, some toasting their drinks to the beginning of the show. He could hear Chris chuckle next to him as he watched Victor react.

The Hot Springs of Yu-topia. An exclusive buy-in backstage event for those with connections, and connections with connections. It was the main event behind the main event. Booked weeks in advance, performances doled out like lottery prizes to the luckiest bastard in the city if you talked to the right people.

Chris had brought him to the VIP event of Yu-topia without so much as a blink of an eye.

"Happy early birthday, Victor." Chris murmured, looking at him now with a warm smile, "And don't you tell me again that Russians don't celebrate it early."

"A VIP show? How much of your salary did you fork up for this, Chris? Even I know normal employees don't get privileges like this in any club."

Chris hummed, tapping his chin in thought as the announcer continued to hype the crowd up.

"I'm going to be a little short this month, but don't worry about me. This is for you, Victor. Sit back, and enjoy, okay?" Chris asked with a wink.

He couldn't deny the present seeing as he was stuck in the middle of the crowd, so he would nod and focus his eyes back to the stage. The lights dimmed further, spotlights focusing on the stage, some circling slowly around the crowd as the announcer stilled in the middle of the stage, her eyes rising, sweeping the crowd once again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Hot Springs. May I present to you your VIP experience for the night. A newcomer to our establishment, but no stranger to the one of the best clubs in town. Those of you who frequent the Banquet should know this man well."

Several hoots and hollers rose up, excitement running through everything and everyone as the music switched up again, sending fresh heat waves through his body. He leaned forward as smoke machines started to hum, covering the stage swiftly. He knew of the Banquet, but never got inside. It was a high-end gentlemen's club on the other side of town, the starting point for many acts that have gone on to be legends, but also a place of flops. It was almost a stripper school, and many came to see what new acts would come forth from the cornerstone of the city's stripping scene.

"I'm proud to welcome to the stage for his debut at Yu-topia: Eros."

"Sexy name." Chris whispered, leaning back into his chair.

Victor leaned in as the stage and the crowd quieted, waiting with bated breath as the lights focused in on the stage. It seemed like forever until something moved, someone noticed something, and slowly a man stepped up out of the crowd and stood on one of the tables, drawing whistles and cries. The spotlights focused in on him immediately, and Victor could make out the man in the light.

From this distance, he seemed somewhat short up on the table, his pitch-black hair swept up and combed back from his face, revealing smoldering facial features that drew him in. He wasn't stocky, but he wasn't too muscular from what he could see through the suit he wore. His body swayed to the building beat of the music, hips and shoulder swaying sensually as his hands moved up his jacket, grabbing the front and effortlessly sliding it off his shoulders to the sound of the woman and men cheering and whistling. It left the man in a tight-fitted plain shirt, mapping out the muscles moving as he posed and swung his hips to the beat. Victor caught the quick flash of his tongue as he licked his lips, letting out a soft whistle, and pulling at the collar of his shirt.

He didn't even bother commenting on the low chuckle Chris offered. His eyes were glued on the swaying and gyrating body of the dancer named 'Eros'.

He watched as the man ran his hands through his hair, eyes sweeping over the room as he moved from the table to another, moving toward the stage. However, his breath died in his throat as he locked eyes with Eros, and those chocolate brown eyes didn't look away. They locked onto Victor and didn't move away, not even as he rolled his body, giving him a facial expression that could be described as orgasmic in nature. Victor took a deep, shuddering breath as the man continued his movements over tables until he reached the stage, eyes still locked on Victor and only Victor. The woman at the table in front of them whistled and waved the few bills they had, assuming Eros' gaze was on them and not the man behind him.

There was no way his gaze wasn't on him. He could feel the entire heat of that gaze, hungry and teasing and hunting for more like a predator finding its prey among the fields.

The music picked up immediately, Eros' hands stretching out to grab onto the stripper pole. He threw himself into the air, legs spinning as he swung halfway around and paused practically in midair, air muscles struggling against the fabric of his shirt as he held himself there before moving his legs into his body, spreading them wide, and then putting his feet back on the ground. His back was to Victor then, the muscles rolling in his back as he squatted down and slowly rose up with a slow rolling motion.

"He's got a nice ass." Chris commented, and Victor enthusiastically nodded.

"I must agree, but his thighs though. Look at them! And that shirt..."

Chris kept his next chuckle muffled, watching Victor's face as he gazed upon the show. He had a feeling Victor wouldn't be able to look away for a second once Eros stepped up and started his routine. Shining ocean blue eyes couldn't be torn from the sight of Eros even if his life were at risk at that moment.

Victor couldn't keep his eyes away as Eros started to unbuttons his shirt, rounding the pole with slow but sensual footwork. The crowd around him cried for more and more, bills thrown on the stage without a care in the world. Every time the dancer would round the stage, slowly pulling his shirt free and unbuttoning it, and find Victor in the crowd, their eyes would lock. He was hypnotized by Eros, and he couldn't stop himself from staring, holding his jaw shut so it wouldn't drop on him. It got harder not to vocalize his appreciation and glee at the show when Eros started his routine on the pole, a brief showing of what he could do even though his pants were still on. Hovering over the air, back arched, muscles bound in fabric struggling to rip through, it was all almost too much for the Russian.

He hadn't noticed that Chris had left him alone at his table yet, too drawn in by Eros' eyes and his performance. He watched as Eros' shirt continued to open until it was teasing the idea of coming off. He almost expected the dancer to rip it off but instead the man looked directly at Victor and made his way toward him.

He gasped as he stepped over one table, and then the other, pausing on the table in front of Victor to tease the woman clapping and trying to slip bills onto him. Victor's hands were shaking as Eros' eyes sealed onto his, unable to believe that the dancer was now stepping onto his table, towering over him with a playful smile and the darkest seductive gaze he had ever received.

The roar of the crowd disappeared as the dancer's hands touched his face, drawing shining, shaking eyes up to the beauty that was the dancer Eros. Light sweat dripped down his chest, Victor noticed immediately. He smelled alluring and deadly, scents mixing into a deadly concoction meant to seduce and woo. Victor found himself standing up, controlled by the hand and fingers on his chin pulling his gaze to the man's face.

"You're prettier up close." the man murmured, fingers trailing up Victor's face to tangle into his hair, pulling his head back so nothing but Eros' face was in his eyes. Victor's face lit up in blushing flames, going cherry red on cue.

Eros chuckled watching Victor's mouth open to speak only for it to not speak a word, caught by the half-naked man holding his gaze and touching his face. His index finger stroked his cheek, earning a soft shiver from the skater as he was enraptured and snared by the act, unable to move from the man's touch for a second. Eros smiled for him, shutting his jaw and leaning it close enough to feel Victor's hot breath on his face.

"I'm going to borrow this."

Victor hadn't realized that Eros' other hand was tugging at his tie. He nodded, not a care in the world that he would lose his tie to his man. He could get a new one, hell he would be willing to give his ties all the time if his dancer wanted to use them for his routines. Sensual hands pulled the tie loose and over his head, making him shiver as he watched Eros slip it around his neck, watching it drop against his chest. His eyes were pulled back to Eros' face in an instant, the man licking his lips again. Victor's heart pounded against his chest, almost hurting him in how loud it was beating.

"I need you to hold onto something for me."

Victor nodded, breathless and lost in the brown eyes tempting him to kiss the man before he pulled away. "O-Okay."

"Good." the dancer purred, pulling away from Victor, his fingers dragging against his skin.

Victor watched as Eros took a step back, still standing on his table, and grabbed for the front of his shirt. Slowly, teasingly, and to the roar of a hyped crowd, he stripped of his shirt in front of Victor, displaying every inch of his chest to the skater and giving him ample time to take in every inch of naked skin gleaming in what looked to be glitter and sweat. He had to cover his mouth again to keep himself from dropping his jaw, or at that point drooling. He could see Eros smirk as he slipped the shirt off his arms, and happily draped it over Victor, earning whistles from the men scattered around the room and the women closest to him. Victor clung to it as Eros reached for his face again, his thumb running over Victor's lips softly.

"You can return it later. Enjoy the show,  _Victor_."

The way his name rolled off that seductive tongue, dripping in nothing but arousal and need. Victor couldn't be more swayed, more aroused then he thought possible at a show like this. It didn't click for a moment, however, until Eros softly said his name again under his breath.

He knew his name. His broken gasp, soft but so sharp, made Eros' cheeks color for a moment before that teasing, flirty smolder returned. The thumb on his lips drew away, and Eros sauntered back over the tables and back onto the stage, the music pounding at his return. He continued on with his striptease as if the last few minutes had never happened, the crowd almost going wild as the boy proceeded to rip his pants away, leaving him in nothing but tight, short and shimmering black briefs.

Victor was absolutely speechless, lost in the moment he had just been submerged into. His lips tingled where the dancer's thumb had run along, his skin alight where his fingers had touched. His hair was a mess from Eros' fingers running through them. He was flushed red down to his neck, his entire face burning with blush. His whole body felt on fire, who was he kidding here? He was sitting with his hands trembling before him, a shirt that smelled of chocolate and tea that wasn't his own draped over his shoulders, and watching a stripper wrap himself around a stripper pole all while said stripper was eyeballing him the entire routine.

"I see you got to briefly meet him."

Victor couldn't find the strength to turn to Chris as he returned, setting a flute of some sort of alcohol in front of Victor before returning to his seat. Victor tightened his grip on the sleeve of the shirt he was given.

Chris chuckled, taking a drink of the cup in his hand as he watched Victor simply watch and stare, trembling as he held onto the shirt, completely caught in the web of sexual dancing and flirting Eros was performing.

"That man has done more than enough to earn his stage name," Chris murmured, taking another drink, "He's amazing, right?"

Victor took a shuddering breath, eyes shining and shaking in the light of the spotlights, unable to look away from Eros. His hand clutched at the shirt until he was practically cuddling it to his chest like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Chris couldn't be more wrong.

"H-He's not amazing... he's absolutely  _stunning_."

Chris chuckled again, his eyes trailing to the dancing man on the stage, giving him a wink as he looked his way. Eros did a quick twist around the pole, landing on his feet with a flourish as the song ended in a crash of a crescendo. He looked over to Victor, and albeit to Chris, and winked back.

It was worth losing an entire week's worth of tips in Chris' opinion just to see Victor completely lose himself in the art that was Eros' dancing.


	2. Duality of a Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you asked for a second chapter, so here it is! I hope you enjoy this! I have an idea for a plot, so I'm going to be continuing it further.

Victor stayed rooted in his chair, clutching Eros' shirt as the room exploded into cheers and applause. The routine and performance were flawless, every single person enthralled by Eros and his moves. Victor bit his lip and tried to hide his blush as Eros winked at him, unable to pull his eyes away as the dancer gathered up the tips decorating the stage. Those brown eyes always came to him when they could, unable to stay away for long. Eventually the announcer from earlier had to help Eros gather his tips, as well as calm down the crowd as they announced the next show would take a few minutes to get ready, allowing the crowd to get refreshments and food for the time being as well as mingle and talk.

Victor had barely touched his glass of champagne, and Chris wasn't going to let it go to waste. Slowly, Victor stood again, bracing his shaking limbs against the table, trying to control the raging fires within.

Eros...

He couldn't keep his eyes away from his back, watching glittering muscles flex and move as he retreated from the stage. He had a million scenarios running through his head, a hundred and one images filtering through his mind and imagining up more and more fantasies about just what that man could do with his body. Not too much muscle, but just enough to show that his profession was doing his body justice. A soft layer of fat, perhaps, around his hips but it made him look comfortable to hold and touch and squeeze.

Just before Eros had disappeared, he turned to look over his shoulder, staring at him once again. Victor tensed up, smiling at Eros and hoping he could see him. It seemed to catch Eros by surprise, his eyes widening before he smiled back and beckoned him with a finger to follow. He disappeared into the backstage before Victor could respond, left shivering from the heat of Eros' eyes and that simple action of beckoning with a finger.

"Oi, Victor."

He gave a gasp, not realizing that he had spaced out for a moment, tightening his hold on the shirt as he turned to a smirking Chris. His friend had a dusting of red on his cheeks, most likely from the alcohol, but he seemed perfectly fine. Chris nodded his head toward the curtain that Eros had gone behind, offering a hand to let Victor go ahead of him.

"Wanna give him back his shirt now?"

"Absolutely." Victor replied without hesitation, though his voice did catch and crack.

His walk toward the backstage started out rough, no thanks to the heat pooling at his hips and his lack of control over his shaking knees. However, once he realized that he would have to be face to face with Eros in a private setting, he found the strength to walk normally, thanking whatever god rested in his locker that his shirt was long enough to hide the issues down south. He wouldn't be able to face Chris, much less Eros, if he openly admitted now that he was almost painfully aware of his rather aching arousal. He hadn't meant for it to make him react like such, but his natural reactions couldn't be so easily controlled. He simply hoped he didn't seem too off to anyone passing him.

Chris was his main key into the backstage section even though he had been invited by Eros mid-routine, finding some relief as Chris explained as a security guard paused their approach. Victor found something odd in the smile the man flashed him as he passed, but he didn't' want to dwell on it.

He had a shirt to return.

The backstage was bustling with workers and assistants, backstage crew, techs, and a small kitchen's worth of staff. Chris grabbed for Victor's hand and helped him move through the crowd hallway of filled wardrobes moving up and down the hall, assistants moving their stars back and forth between their rooms and their stages, dedicated servers delivering fresh food, and the whirlwind of other staff trying to move to different parts of the club. The air was heavy in the smell of fresh food - which currently consisted of what he thought was pork and something with heavy spices - and hairspray, with just a hint of sweat from those returning from shifts, rotating in between floors and stages for their shows and routines. Much of the backstage was draped in velvet, and much of the seating available was taken by the talent looking for breaks as they sought some relaxation.

He knew not every piece of talent had a room to themselves, that right reserved for the most important of their permanent staff, but he couldn't help but wonder where Eros was. He was new talent at Yu-topia. However, as he scanned the crowd, looking for those familiarly hot brown eyes, he couldn't find a sign of him. He worried suddenly if perhaps he had lost his chance to return the shirt to him, or if all Eros had done was simply a part of the act, and he was simply lucky to have been given the spot he had taken.

Some of the lingering performers were smiling at him, giving him thumbs up, and overall... encouraging him to move forward? He didn't understand a thing, but it was enough to wipe the worry off his face and proudly keep up with Chris as they wound through the halls, and passed the large section he had remembered Chris mentioned once called the Lounge. Its purpose was on the tin, and it was evident from the amount of laughter.

"He signed on to be permanent entertainment, you know?"

"Hm?"

Chris shook his head, amused by how airheaded Victor had become. "Eros. He agreed to be part of the permanent staff."

"On his first day performing here? Really?" Victor's amazement couldn't be more evident.

Chris paused at the opening of a new hallway, which led into rows of doors labeled by the dancer that preoccupied them. He could see Chris' door a few doors down on the left, and chuckled. Someone had covered his nameplate proclaiming his stage name with a sticker now proclaiming him as 'Assman'.

"How appropriate." Victor chuckled, making Chris smile.

"Indeed. Do they not like my stage name, though? How curious."

"Where's...."

Chris pulled him along down the hall, stopping a few doors down from his own, giving a smile. In bright gold, the nameplate on the door proclaimed it to be 'Eros'. Victor's heat started pounding again as he fingered the shirt's buttons, looking down at it for a moment before taking a breath and knocking on the door.

"Who is it?" was the muffled reply.

Chris stepped up before Victor could speak, pushing the Russian back from the door with a grin. "Eros, it's me, I'm coming in!"

"Christophe! Don't you dare-!!"

Chris barged in immediately, giving Victor an eyeful of what was inside, and what an eyeful it was.

There stood in the middle of the room, one hand frantically pressed over his crotch to protect himself from peeping eyes, was one completely nude Eros. Nothing covered anything except for that perfectly placed hand but even that didn't cover everything from Victor's very wide eyes. He struggled to keep his eyes anywhere else in the room, unable to deny himself the beautiful sight that had been presented to him. Slicked back hair, glitter covering his body mixed with the sweat from working his body earlier, a flush of blood turning parts of his body a delicious color of pink and red. Victor could see every inch of his nude flesh, and it took everything in his body not to speak or make a sound, simply letting the door shut, and standing there in the hall in stunned silence.

He had seen Eros completely in the nude.

He had gotten to see _everything_.

He hadn't caught sight of that happy trail when Eros had been stripping and dancing earlier. How had he missed that, he wondered?

It took him a moment to realize he had been squeezing his left arm tight in his right hand, enough to push his nails into his skin. What it from shock, or was it his mind trying to snap him out of the delirious haze now clouding his every thought.

He had simply come to return Eros' shirt, and instead he got a full frontal shot of the dancer!

He could only imagine what color his face was now, or now that he thought about it, his whole body was probably a bright shade of red.

He wondered then how Eros would feel now that such a sight had been previewed through the door.

Victor shook his head, trying to get it together even if the shock hadn't entirely worn off. Yes, he had just seen someone completely in the nude. Yes, he was absolutely and completely shocked that he had gotten to see the nude body of the dancer who had successfully wooed him in a single shot. However, he knew that it had been a complete accident thanks to Chris and his nonsense.

Deep breaths. He needed to calm himself before he was face to face with Eros again. He couldn't walk in there like a prepubescent teenager with a boner and actually try to make conversation after seeing something like that. He wasn't going to let this completely ruin him or anything he had thought about Eros up until this point. It had been a mistake, a complete fluke, that Eros had been changing when Chris barged inside.

The door opened once again, drawing Victor's eyes to Chris as he stepped out with cheek slightly more swelled then the other.

"Your turn~"

"Chris..."

"He's dressed, I promise," Chris countered, brushing off the warning in Victor's voice, "I didn't realize he was naked. Besides, you know me."

"I do, and I'm starting to think it's not a good thing." Victor replied, moving to the door as Chris gave an obviously-fake expression of pain.

Victor took a deep breath before pushing the door open, smiling at the new sights within the room. Eros was positioned in front of his large vanity, making sure his raven black hair was slicked back properly. Even with the aid of gel, it seemed small strands of hair rebelled against the dancer's fingers. The room was fairly large for the new performer, but scarcely decorated, but it made sense for it to be barren considering the circumstances. There were couches to allow for the performer to relax, a large closet most likely filled with outfits, and a large vanity. It took a moment for Victor to realize then that the room held in an attractive smell, a pleasant scent lulling the fears shaking his fingers. It was then he noticed that Eros was burning incense, a curious notion for someone who danced and performed on the pole as if he had been doing it for years.

The vanity Eros leaned on was covered in a curious assortment of items, Victor noted as he stepped into the room. Makeup of all sorts littered the top, alongside two combs, his phone, water bottles, and what looked to be an eyeglasses case. He hadn't figured Eros to be one to use makeup, or use glasses to see. He was curious, so curious, and unable to look away from Eros' reflection as his face twisted into several expressions as he concentrated on getting his hair just right, without a hair out of place.

Eros was only dressed in a pair of low-riding black slacks. The slacks were relentless in teasing what hid underneath, revealing the deliciously apparent V cut leading down lower below the belt, and teasing the beginning of his surprising happy trail, a thin but noticeable line of hair ever teasing the prospect of what hid underneath. If Victor was looking correctly, Eros hadn't even bothered putting on underwear, and the thought brought the blood rushing back to his cheeks and neck and ears without a moment's hesitation. He still glinted in the light of his vanity as if covered in glitter, the effect only intensified by the sweat still clinging to his body.

The click of the door drew Eros from his work, and Victor from his rapid-fire glancing at practically everything he could get an eyeful of before he was drawn to the chocolate brown eyes still calling his name, hypnotizing him to never look away.

Eros smirked playfully, shifting the weight on his legs to jut out his hip, the fabric of his slacks slipping lower.

Victor couldn't bother breathing for a moment.

"Enjoying the view, Victor?"

He jumped, caught in the act, but finding his throat sealed shut. His mouth flapped open and closed before he could find the will to simply sputter. "U-Um..."

Eros laughed, a soft chime of a chuckle, and it took Victor's breath away.

"You look cute when you blush."

That statement did nothing to help Victor, brushing his hand over his red-hot neck, feeling the heat of his blush and just how powerful it had become in Eros' presence. Eros slid away from the vanity, moving closer to Victor. The Russian took a shuddering breath, relaxed his right hand out of the fabric of the shirt he held, and offered it to Eros with an embarrassed smile.

"Y-you wanted this back, right?"

Eros flashed a bright smile at the Russian. Victor's heart leaped in his chest at the beautiful sight of the man's genuine smile. Eros took the shirt back with that joy still on his face, briefly caressing Victor's hand. The movement caught Victor's attention long enough to miss Eros tossing the shirt aside, and reaching up to touch Victor's face once more. Shocked blue met half-lidded brown just as Eros' thumb brushed against Victor's lower lip once again, the teasing motion that made Victor dizzy with the thought of kissing the dancer.

"Thank you for returning it, Victor. Though I am a little surprised."

"Surprised?" Victor's tone was curious, even if his voice was so soft he almost couldn't hear himself. Eros nodded gently.

"I had thought you would leave with it like a prize. It's not an uncommon thing."

"Nonsense!"

Victor shocked himself with the sudden response, stepping back and out of Eros' space, away from his touch. The idea of running off without properly talking, meeting, touching, anything, with this man was absurd and he didn't know if he felt hurt by the insinuation that he was like all the other people in that room, or sad knowing perhaps Eros had tried to do the same thing again and again with no happy result.

Victor swallowed the lump in his throat, finding confidence suddenly out of the pit of self-consciousness and fluster from his sudden exclamation. "I wanted... to see you again. I had to return it."

Eros' expression softened, his eyes shining in the soft light as they gazed deep into Victor. His thumb swiped over Victor's bottom lip once again as he stepped closer, bringing Victor back into his space.

"I wanted to as well, Victor. When Christophe told me he had a friend that could help me get through my debut... I thought he was lying to me."

Victor blinked in rapid succession, caught off guard by Eros' words. Chris had set the dancer up as well? The idea brought a smile to Victor's lips, earning a curious sound from Eros.

"That's funny. Chris told me he wanted me to meet someone that would help me relax."

Eros laughed, shaking his head at the odd absurdity of the situation. "Did he set us up together?"

Victor grinned. "It seems so. However, that begs the question..."

Eros gave a curious noise as Victor's eyes shifted downward, that flush of heat running through his cheeks as he caught the courage to speak again.

"Did I help you, Eros?"

Eros gaped, mouth open in a small 'o' shape before it closed, a warming, precious smile on his lips as he inched closer to Victor's face. It was a dizzying, gentle look that made Victor's mind go blank. He was so close, practically sharing his breath. His heart leaped into his throat again, hoping that Eros couldn't hear it pounding in his chest. That gentle thumb on his lips slipped down his face, and rested on his chin, tilting his head down. Those brown eyes, once filled with lust were filled with something new. Something almost purer, something gentle that made Victor melt under it. It was a gaze so soft, he lost himself in the beauty that was before him.

"Absolutely, Victor."

Victor's next breath was shaky, but at least eh could somewhat breathe in that moment. "I-I'm glad."

"Did I help you, though?"

Victor's eyes closed, his fluttering heart bringing out the smile he held deep within, the emotions he had twisting around his insides at the first sight of this man.

"Do you even need to ask?"

"Well... I would like to know."

Victor opened his eyes again, peering into Eros' shimmering eyes once again. A few inches separated them, and it seemed the distance wouldn't stay between them long. Was this the right path, Victor thought for a breath, inching closer to Eros.

His mind couldn't think.

His heart said yes.

"You did a lot more for me then just help me relax."

Eros' eyes fluttered close, the distance between them shrinking slowly. Time slowed, and Victor almost moved away as his mind tried to catch up to his body, and impulses, and needy heart. However, the sudden infatuation won over his thoughts, and let his eyes close. Moving naturally toward the warmth seeking out his lips, wondering just what Eros' lips would taste like, and wondered if perhaps his presence had the same effect on this beautiful man-

"Eros! Oi, Eros!"

The pounding at Eros' door immediately had that warmth move away, Victor opening his eyes to the sight of Eros looking sadly at the door, sighing before running his fingers through his hair. How cliché, that someone would interrupt now, of all times. However, Victor could hear the soft inflection of the voice outside, meaning it wasn't Chris interrupting their time together. Eros looked back to Victor, his apology shining through his eyes without a word spoken.

Victor quietly nodded, stepping back both to give Eros room and to let himself somehow find the calm needed to walk out of the room after such a brief but exhilarating meeting.

"I understand. You're still on the clock, after all."

Eros' smile told him he had spoken the right words, nodding back. "You should come back. It would be nice to see you more often at my shows."

And came forth the blush at such loving comments! Victor cleared his throat, looking off to the door as if trying to beg himself not to make himself look more vulnerable in the face of such things.

"It would be great to come back."

"It's settled then," Eros firmly stated, "I'll get you a VIP pass. In exchange, you come to my shows. I don't know what I'd do without you in the audience now that I have your attention, Victor."

Victor could only nod, taken completely by surprise by Eros' blunt and passionate words, his smile crooked. The sight of his complete infatuation seemed to please Eros as he came close once again.

"Don't be a stranger."

"I have no plans to be."

The pounding at the door continued louder, whoever was behind the door growing impatient.

"Eros! You're needed out on the floor in ten! Come on out!"

Eros shook his head, throwing the shirt in his hands onto one of the couches. He adjusted his slacks, giving Victor that gentle, comforting smile for before.

"That's my cue, and yours."

Victor flashed his award-winning smile, and let it grow as Eros' cheeks seemed to glow a bright red. Eros pushed at his arm, and then his back, urging him to the door all while the Russian chuckled.

"Get out, Victor. I'll see you later, right?" Eros chuckled, waving him goodbye as Victor slipped into the threshold of the door.

"I wouldn't want to miss another performance."

* * *

 

"Look who's all happy." Mila called out the next morning, spotting Victor without a moment's hesitation in the busy locker room.

Victor was practically glowing as he laced up his skates, humming softly the tune of the song he had watched Eros perform with. With every note, he imagined his next performance, and every second he could close his eyes, he could imagine that soft expression on Eros' face once again. He had been denied a chance to kiss him, but perhaps that was better. He hadn't imagined that he would enjoy such a night in a place like a strip club, but instead of disappointment, he found someone his heart clung to at first sight.

As he finished off his last knot on his skates, he checked to ensure they were on properly, and twirled, smiling knowingly before grabbing his water bottle and moving to the exit. Mila followed close behind, smirking up until she could catch Victor by the shoulder just as they entered the rink.

"So how was the performance, Victor?"

Victor chuckled, looking over his shoulder at his rink sister. "Better then I ever imagined. I got to meet him after he performed."

"And?" Mila pressed, leaning in closer.

Victor blushed, bashfully looking away before brushing Mila's hand off his shoulder and sliding onto the ice.

"He was beautiful, Mila! Oh god, I think I'm in love."

"Love at first sight?!" Mila followed him onto the ice, grinning from ear to ear as she followed Victor's path around the rink.

It was early enough in the morning that they had the rink to themselves, and Mila could only marvel at how passionate Victor's step sequence was as he moved without music, and twirled with a passion. She could see the love from within pour out of the once exhausted skater as he continued to skate in circles, pulling off a flawless triple Salchow and rolled into a spread eagle.

"Go Victor, go!"

Mila's cheers reached him, but all he could here was Eros' voice tempting him closer, showering him in the gift of gentle words of praise. Choreography came to him in an instant, his feet moving to an invisible beat, the pounding of his heart mixed into the chilling noise in his head. He positioned himself for the next jump, ignoring the world and seeing only the sights and sounds of the VIP room, the sight of Eros staring him down from afar and lighting his soul alight in a passionate bonfire.

Cheers surrounded him, a deafening roar, snapping him free of his sudden impromptu performance to find not just Mila, but several arriving skaters and coaches, applauding and cheering his name. What had he done to earn such an applause?

He caught voices gasping and speaking in the crowd, blinking in utter shock at the words spoke.

"He landed a quadruple loop!"

"I've heard he hasn't even been able to land it in practice!"

"He landed that quad so beautifully."

"Vitya!! You did it, it was beautiful!" Mila cheered, skating into him and tackling into him a hug. Luckily, Victor was steady on his feet and didn't bring both of them crashing onto the ice.

"I-I did?"

Mila's grin softened into a knowing smile. "You were so gone by the memory of that dancer that you skated basically blind and landed a jump you hadn't ever landed cleanly before. You're so lovestruck, it's adorable."

He smiled coyly, hugging Mila close as the crowd simmered down from the excitement of the jump. However, one skater remained on the barrier around the rink, watching him with shining brown eyes. Victor's eyes came to the skater that had yet to join the others on the ice. The man gave him a small smile, and finally moved onto the ice. Victor gave Mila one last hug before moving swiftly to catch up to the man that had lingered. He wasn't too tall, slowly doing a circuit around the rink, testing his free leg slowly. It was somewhat sloppy, obviously uncertain of the motion.

"Are you new to this?"

The words brought the man's eyes to Victor once again. His stop to speak was sloppy, almost tripping over himself in uncertainty of his skills.

"N-not really, no. It's been a while since I last skated, so I'm a little unsure of myself."

Victor hummed thoughtfully, smiling at the man. He almost seemed out of place on the rink, but he had a twinkle in his eyes, a spark of something hidden behind the nervousness pouring off of his body and the tremor in his limbs in keeping upright.

"If you don't mind, I could help you get steady on the ice again."

The shine in the man's eyes overtook the fear, looking excited as he carefully adjusted his position on the ice. He faced Victor, a shaky but determined smile on his face.

"It would be an honor!"

"I love the determination! What's your name?"

The man offered his hand, his smile disappearing, and with it an odd expression of worry and oddly enough, sadness. Maybe it was melancholy, but it was hard to discern through the sparkle still glinting there in his deep brown irises, and the anxiety holding his limbs.

"Yuuri. Y-Yuuri Katsuki."

Victor's smile turned into a grin, and accepted the man's hand.

"Alright, Yuuri. I'm Victor. Let's get started."


	3. A Curse, she cries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready to get fucked up by episode 12? I'm not, so have chapter 3!
> 
> THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS, IT GIVES ME SO MUCH JOY KNOWING YOU ALL LOVE THIS FANFICTION. Please, keep commenting, and I hope you enjoy this installment!

Victor couldn't keep his eyes off Yuuri.

It had been hours since he had taken Yuuri under his wing to help him relearn certain skills to skate again, and he was blown away by Yuuri's progress. He picked up on skills easily, without issue, and perfected them even though it seemed his uncertainty stayed with him. It seemed all Yuuri needed to remember old skills lost in time was practice and a little determination to stay on the ice.

Physically, this man was impressive. Muscles could be seen through his tight black ensemble of a long sleeve shirt and pants, but it wasn't anything too impressive in turns of muscle mass. The man had some chubbier, thicker areas but it made him look almost alluring as he skated around the rink, stretching and arching his back and making himself appear thin, feminine, and as alluring as a seductress. He had no issue with announcing to him the divide between masculine and feminine was nonexistent, and it gave him a charm on the ice. His face was sharp in places, and soft in others, adding to that slight attractiveness he carried. Sweat-soaked bangs slapped against his forehead as he moved, his hair now a mess. Surprisingly, his glasses hadn't flown off his face, but they worked well in terms of the look he carried. They hid his eyes well, and something about that stirred curiosity within Victor.

He watched from the middle of the rink as the younger man moved through his circuit, cutting in and out of a straight line in an attempt to mix in some sense of choreography much like a professional figure skater. His footwork was shaky, the nervousness surrounding him never leaving, but he could see beauty in them. Underneath the fear and the caution was something beautiful and daring, he could tell. Yuuri was trying to tell a story, one small but important, in this small mock routine.

He had mentioned that it had been a while since he last skated. Was Yuuri at one point a professional? There was strength in his moves, a practiced polish to certain twists of his muscles.

His questions were tested when he noticed Yuuri 'winding up', preparing for a jump as he looked over his shoulder.

Victor shouted for him to stop a moment too late, watching Yuuri sail into the air, twisting, turning, his skates ready for contact with the ice again, the wall approaching too quickly-

A double toe loop.

Yuuri neither hit the ice nor hit the approaching wall, sliding out of his landing with an easy turn, and returned to his quiet and precise steps, a smile proudly curling his lips. Victor was left speechless watching Yuuri come up around him in a outside spread eagle, and then return back to the outer edges of the rink to keep with his 'program'.

"Yuuri!"

The younger stopped on the sound of his name on Victor's lips, albeit with a wobble that threatened to tumble him to the ice, but he managed to stay upright. At the wave of Victor's hand, Yuuri skated over slowly, his face flushed from exercise and possible flustered by the sudden shout of his name after such a jump.

"Yes?"

"You told me earlier that you hadn't touched the ice in a while, and yet you can do a double toe loop without a fault?"

Yuuri jumped in his skates, nervously pushing hair out of his eyes, and adjusting his blue-rimmed glasses. He stuttered, looking for a way to answer but only making him look even more flustered. The sight brought a chuckle to Victor's lips, and the sound brought Yuuri back to earth with a concerned look.

"What's so funny?"

Victor cleared his throat, trying to stop the giggles rising up through him. "I'm sorry. You looked adorable trying to answer."

"V-Victor!"

Victor skated up to Yuuri, his smile filling with admiration. He was almost too cute for words, blushing so brightly at the notion of him being cute. Yuuri seemed to brush some of it off, wiping the sweat off his forehead with a quick swipe of his forehead.

"Have you ever competed, Yuuri? That loop was impressive for someone who claims they've been off the ice."

Yuuri chuckled weakly, looking off to the side, unable to meet the warm gaze of the other skater.

"I don't really like to talk about it... but I have competed before."

Victor was taken back a bit. This boy had once competed? How had he not seen him before, then? He knew that something was up with this man, how he had stared at him after the quad loop landing, and he knew something felt almost familiar about him, like perhaps his face had caught his attention, but he didn't know what was causing all this déjà vu all of a sudden. What had caused so much nervousness in this man?

"Is it alright for me to ask why you don't like to talk about it?" Victor asked honestly, seeing that anxiousness wrap around Yuuri.

"I don't really want to talk about it right now, if that's okay."

"Of course, of course!" Victor exclaimed, wanting to avoid making his new friend uncomfortable, "No need to explain. I was just curious. You skate like you could own the ice, like you don't care who sees. It's hard to look away from. You still make mistakes, and some of your footwork is sloppy, _especially_ your stopping, but you have a lot of potential. We just have to iron out all of the hard edges, and work on getting you back in shape for the ice."

"Victor..."

Victor offered his hand to Yuuri. His expression was gentle, welcoming, and his smile doubled the effect it had.

"I can understand the hesitation to start again, but don't worry! I'll be here to help you when you want to skate, okay?"

Yuuri gasped in surprise, covering his face immediately at the sight of the help offered by Victor. However, it was the shaking of Yuuri's shoulders and the sight of his tears that shocked Victor the most, panicking as the boy broke down before him, cautiously reaching out to him in an awkward attempt of comfort. Yuuri, instead, took the hand he had offered, pulling himself closer to Victor with a swift tug. The move almost sent Victor tumbling into Yuuri, but a quick twist of his feet kept them steady against one another, Yuuri looking up into Victor's wide eyes.

That spark in his eyes.

"Thank you..."

He recognized that spark.

This beautiful, determined spark shining through the night. A light in the backdrop of darkness, the life that burned through a person's eyes straight from their soul.

"Thank you for believing in me, Victor!"

He had no idea that such a spark would be visible through eyes that had originally been filled with confusion and disappointment.

He loved that spark.

He tucked Yuuri to his chest, letting the man cry out his disbelief at the Russian's words. Even as his shoulders shuddered, his body shaking from the force of emotions rolling over him, Victor held him close and tight and protected him from the world. He held this new friend of his close, listened to his sobs and tears and heartbeat, and promised him a new chance upon the ice he seemed so scared to touch once again.

He wanted to know his story.

He wanted to know him.

"Thank you, Victor..."

He wanted to show Yuuri everything.

"You're welcome, Yuuri. Don't ever think that I don't believe in you. I'll help you however I can, whenever I'm able, okay?"

Yuuri sniffled, clinging to Victor  as his knees wobbled, threatening to send them to the ice. He took several deep, haggard breaths before he could pull himself out of Victor's arms, face flushed a brighter red then expected. He blinked several times, wiping his tears from his eyes and his face, and smiled at him. Something clouded Yuuri's eyes for a breath before they brightened, hopeful and joyful as they locked with Victor's without a hesitation in the world.

"Okay."

* * *

Victor was apprehensive as he approached the doors of the Yu-topia Gentlemen's Club.

Why was worry filling him? Was it because he wasn't accompanied by Chris and Mila this time? Could it be because he was without his VIP pass that Eros had claimed he would get to him so he could come back for more?

He couldn't put his finger on it, and the feeling wouldn't leave the pit of his stomach, so he tried to calm himself with the memories of the night prior. His meeting with Eros was beyond his expectations, and the thoughts made his heart skip a beat once again. He would be seeing Eros perform for him once again, eyes locked entirely on him, and know that in his mind he was the VIP of the entire club, chosen by Eros as the only person in the entire club who would have him. The botched kiss attempt was clue enough that something stirred between them despite the short meeting. He hadn't imagined finding love in a place such as a strip club, but he didn't mind the odd meeting palce, or the curious nature of their meeting. He only cared that somehow, Chris had helped him find a reason to skate truly again. He had found his center in a man who could crush him with his thighs, and he would allow it.

Eros. A man he fell so far in love, he couldn't care that he could ruin his image if he continually returned to Yu-topia.

He saw the growing line of the building, and started toward it, having a feeling that he would have to wait, until one of the bouncers noticed him in the stirring crowds of the streets.

"You're Victor, right?"

Victor nodded, the apprehensive boil in his stomach rising. "Yes."

The bouncer gave a quick smile, and pulled something out of his back pocket. It was a black and blue lanyard, and attached to it was a laminated badge stamped with the gentlemen's club logo and the letters 'VIP' on the front.

His VIP badge.

"Flash this to the staff if you want to get into the backstage, and bring it with you whenever you want to come in. Have a good night, Mr. Nikiforov."

Victor was speechless for a moment, holding his badge, touching the smooth surface of the badge, and thinking that now everyone in the club knew that he was chosen by one of their performers. Those in the front of the line gaped at the scene in front of them, while some shouted against it as they were still in line. He didn't pay them any mind and slipped inside.

The frosty touch of apprehension slid away and was replaced with the roaring fire of love and the pounding of the music around him.

New music races through the crowd as the night moved forward without them, sheltered in this shining hall of dancers, alcohol, and the raucous laughter of patrons who had come for their shows. Crystal blue eyes swept the crowd once again, spotting a few recognizable faces he had seen from his rink, as well as a few dancers he knew gave him looks the last time he had been here. A waitress passed by him, and did a double take as soon as she cleared his path, almost spilling the empty glasses on her tray to the floor. He barely noticed that she rushed to pass the glasses off to the coming busboy and pratically sprinted out of the crowded main hall to somewhere in the shadows. He paused to enjoy some of the other dancers spread around, and chuckled as he spotted a clear cut bachelor's party crowded around one of the stages, and the male dancer teasing them endlessly, before moving on toward the bar to help him get the night rolling.

"Why if it isn't the much hyped Victor Nikiforov."

Victor immediately looked to his left at the sound of his name, the man he had briefly seen yesterday night with Chris flooding back from his memories.

"And if it isn't JJ, correct?"

"Right you are!" the man cried, moving from the Russian's side and back behind the bar, grabbing a glass and a rag and beginning to clean it, "Though _King_ JJ may be more appropriate, but I'll let it slide for you. You're a big name here, Victor."

"Me?" Victor asked curiously, watching JJ clean the glass and set it aside, pulling up an unopened bottle from below, pulling at the top with a rag to loosen it.

"Yep," JJ said with a grunt as the top popped off, and the smell hit Victor's nose.

Pure smelling, gentle and not too sharp. A brand he recognized instantly as a homeland favorite, an award winning vodka. The label had been obscured by JJ's hands, hiding from him the revelation of the bottle in the bartender's hands.

"Tovaritch Vodka..."

JJ winked at him, pouring him a small shot of the vodka and setting it in front of him. "You know it?"

"That's like asking an American if they know what Kentucky bourbon is. I'm insulted, JJ."

" _Forgive_ me for my insolence, Victor. Not everyone knows that you're Russian, so be grateful at least I know who you are." JJ chuckled, obviously playing with him as he pushed the shot closer to Victor, "Eros won't be performing for a bit, so I thought I could loosen you up with some of our good stock. I mean, you are now one of the most important people in this place with that VIP badge."

"Most important? Aren't there tons of others with VIP badges?" Victor asked, out of the loop on the entire ordeal.

JJ paused in his movements, his eyes showing him disbelief before his face showed the entire thing clearly. It had Victor pausing as he lifted the shot glass to his lips.

"You really don't know?"

Victor shook his head slowly. "No...?"

"There's a difference between those who pay to get into the Hot Springs, and those with VIP passes, Victor," JJ started to explain, his expression hardening, "Every permanent employee gets one VIP badge to give to someone significant so they can always come in no matter what. They're not allowed to ever give another one out ever unless that original person has to give it up for various reasons. For example, I've given mine to my girlfriend, Isabella, so she can keep me company when it's slow or whenever she can get free time."

"Makes sense."

"However, I didn't give it to her until six months after I got my job, when I met her, and told her what I did and where I worked for a living. I didn't mention the idea of giving her the VIP badge until we were closer. Eros was just signed on as permanent _yesterday_ , Victor. He gave you the most valuable object in this club without hesitation after one day- no, not even a day! An hour or two at best. It's painfully obvious you've got something for the man.

"Isn't it obvious you're not the only one, though?"

Victor grabbed for his VIP badge, looking to the embossed front and the proud silver letters exclaiming him a VIP of the club, one of the most important people to their staff. He didn't know how many permanent employees they had, but he figured with the popularity of the place and just how many people came in and out on a daily basis, the ratio of normal patrons to VIPs would staggering. He flipped it around, staring at the back and what it had written on it.

In the same similar silver that was on the front, his name was written within a box of blue vines, and at the bottom was the swirling golden signature of Eros.

His heart skipped a beat, stuttered in what felt like a heart attack, and finally started to beat like a drum.

"Is it really possible...?"

JJ poked at Victor's abandoned shot, smiling as he watched Victor blush and stare at his VIP badge, marveling at its existence in his hands. JJ chuckled, putting away the vodka and picking up another glass to clean.

"From what I've seen of Eros at the Banquet, he's not one to really open up to a lot of people. The fact that he didn't hesitate for a second to give you his VIP badge... as King, I can tell when the members of my court are trying to court someone."

Victor bit back his laughter at the wild things JJ said, shaking his head and letting his pass drop, and throwing back his shot. The pleasant burn shook a shiver through his body, smiling as he let the buzz ring through his blood. He took a moment to let the buzz work through and fade away, leaving him slightly more aware of the noise of the club, and the soft whispers of surrounding patrons. JJ leaned in closer for a moment.

"Don't let me waste your time at the bar. Go get him, Psyche."

"Psyche?" Victor asked, confused by whatever reference JJ had made.

JJ slid back from the bar, picking up his glass again. "Look it up sometime. Eros and Psyche. I think you'd find it interesting. Have a good night, Victor."

With the swift dismissal, and the continued confusion behind the use of the name Psyche, Victor ventured from the bar and toward the Hot Springs of Yu-topia. The guard before the curtains waved him in wit ha smile, which Victor returned as he slipped within the crowded backstage that was the Hot Springs. The music seemed almost more muted compared to the other side of the strip club, patrons not that buzzed or excited for the coming night's events. Some seemed to notice him as he moved, whispers igniting as he swept his eyes over the room.

"Mr. Nikiforov!"

His head turned to the stage as the announcer from last night came running up to him from the stage, panting softly as she paused in front of him, catching her breathe before offering her hand with a worried expression.

"Sara Crispino. It's great to meet you officially."

He accepted her hand, smiling at her as she tugged his hand toward the backstage, letting the proud woman lead him into the back.

"It's nice to meet you as well. Why am I being led back here?"

"For you to talk with Eros, of course! He came in jittery, so I thought maybe seeing you will help him get together before his show."

Victor blinked. Eros was nervous? That wasn't something he thought possible in someone so forward with his feelings and affections, not a drop of fear on him as they almost kissed last night. Sara eventually let him go and led him forward into the lounge. Seated in one of three bean bags around a glass table filled with glasses and plates of greasy food, was Eros. His hair was half slicked back, the rest hanging over his forehead limply. His eyes were empty of the excited and dazzling sparkle they had the night before. His fingers tapped along his arm in a nervous pattern, up three, down two, repeat until he hit his shoulder and move down to his wrist.

"Eros." Sara called out softly, stepping in front of Victor and drawing the downtrodden dancer's attention. However, his eyes barely flirted over Sara before they came to Victor.

The spark that had been extinguished came back. Not as strong as last night, but it returned, glittering in the background of his wide, bright chocolate brown eyes.

"Victor..."

"I thought he would help, so I pulled him from the Hot Springs." Sara explained, stepping aside to allow for the two to talk, "Take the time you need, okay?"

"Thank you, Sara." Victor replied, flashing another smile at her as she waved and left them alone.

Victor was at a loss of words, however, as he stood before Eros as he curled around a blanket he had over his shoulders, the flickering spark in his eyes fading in and out of the brown. Eros' eyes were locked on him, however, his attention solely on him as if he were expecting something amazing. Victor came close, and moved one of the bean bag chairs closer to Eros, sitting in it with some struggle, uncertain of his position for a moment. The squirming seemed to bring some life into Eros' eyes for a moment, fading away once Victor was settled.

"You came..." Eros' voice lacked strength, exhaustion gripping his expression.

"Of course I did," Victor replied, tilting his head as if to question Eros for his questioning of his arrival, "I made a promise. I don't go back on my promises."

Another flash of light in the depths of his eyes. He played with the bangs against his forehead, swiping at them in an attempt to slick them back. They didn't stick, falling back into place.

A new spark in his eye.

It reminded him of Yuuri, Victor realized.

"Would you keep your promises... even if the person you promised something to was lying to you?"

He recognized that apprehensive look. One filled with guilt, and a haunted glare in his eye. His eyes looked over the man in front of him, catching on his hair, the way it fell over his face. Tracing the curve of his jaw, the and the lines of his neck.

"It would depend on the lie being told." Victor responded honestly, "Lying isn't a good thing. It helps no one."

"T-that was rather blunt."

A stutter.

The hollow gleam of his eyes. His eyes, _of course_ it was, it was _alway_ s the eyes.

He was taken by Eros' eyes, and how they dove deep inside Victor, and stirred awake something that had been dormant for years.

He was drawn in by Yuuri's eyes, and how they followed him in wonder and determination. His strength through the pain made him so curious.

How had he been so blind to the truth in those brown eyes?

"Would you like me to be gentler, then, Eros?"

"N-no. Sometimes being blunt helps."

Victor closed his eyes for a moment, smiling to himself.

It made sense now.

His eyes opened, and caught Eros' gaze. It seemed to surprise him, the gentleness he hoped he could express through his eyes. He had missed the obvious clues, the blatant telltale signs that should have set off alarms. Alas, they were delayed, and he could see now the effect of the delay had taken its toll.

He wanted to know him. He wanted to let him in.

"Then... can you tell me why you hid who you were from me, Yuuri?"


	4. Russian Roulette

 Victor watched as Yuuri's head snapped up, his body shaking at the blatant callout on the man. He bit into his bottom lip, looking down at his feet shamefully. His hands curled tighter around the blanket draped over him, trying to make himself appear smaller, trying not to let the buildup of anxiety and fear take him whole but Victor could at least see that Yuuri's attempts were failing. Turmoil swept over Yuuri as he struggled to find the words to speak, and Victor struggled to find anything to say to help him. He had figured Yuuri knew what he was doing, withholding information like that, but it seems he had assumed wrong.

This was not entirely the confident sexual man who captured his heart, and it was not entirely the nervous but determined skater who had captured his attention.

This was the blending of both, the different sides of Yuuri Katuski.

"Yuuri..."

"I... couldn't tell you." Yuuri squeaked, refusing to lift his head to let Victor see his eyes, "I couldn't."

"Why not?" Victor's voice was gentle, his words soft and patient, "Why couldn't you?"

Yuuri shook his head, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. More of his bangs that had been slicked back fell onto his forehead, the fearless and empowered persona of Eros fading and falling quickly into the uncertain and shaken truth that was Yuuri Katsuki. His hands tightened into fists, shaking in his lap as he tried to control himself. Victor's expression drooped, saddened that Yuuri could be so easily torn apart.

"Why couldn't you say that you were Eros today, Yuuri?" he asked again, scooting closer to the shaking dancer.

"B-Because..."

Victor scooted closer, poking at one of Yuuri's knees. The touch made Yuuri flinch, his foot kicking out to solidly hit Victor's leg. Yuuri's head raised an inch, but still he hid his face, his expression, and whatever he could convey through his eyes.

"Because why?"

"B-Because I was afraid." Yuuri's voice was a whisper, weak and shaky and filled with everything that turned him into a turmoil-filled mess, but Victor could hear him.

"Afraid? Afraid of what?"

Yuuri looked to his left, and then his right, and finally settled on his bare feet for a moment. His eyes just briefly moved to Victor, the Russian catching sight of the guilt clouding the younger's eyes, before Yuuri closed his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched, trying to center himself. Victor waited patiently, figuring in this state of mind, Yuuri would struggle to do anything at a normal rate. So, he would wait, and allow Yuuri his time to answer without pushing him too far.

"I... what could I say to you? _'Hi, I'm Yuuri. You know me better as Eros? You know, the stripper you almost kissed last night?'_ T-that would have been completely mortifying! There was no way to tell you that I was Eros there. I would have told you somehow, but... you didn't even seem to recognize me."

Guilt burrowed into Victor's stomach, and rightfully so. He had only noticed now the similarities between Yuuri and Eros, and finally put the pieces in the right place to see that they were the same person. He didn't have any excuse for his actions, for mistaking Yuuri for someone new to him, and had no rebuttal to the accusation for it was all truth. He rubbed his hands together and sighed. Yuuri's eyes lifted, the anxiety changing to disappointment. They stared into Victor's eyes, the emotion sweeping over him and making the stabbing guilt burrow deeper.

Victor remembered now. He had been given that look before. On the ice, when they exchanged names. 

"You didn't recognize me, but... being praised for my skills without any prompt, being encouraged to skate again after so long, and being encouraged and cared for by you... it hurts knowing that I'm that different, but to know you care about me even when I'm not Eros eases the pain a little."

That caught Victor's attention immediately, sitting up straighter. "You did say that your skating past wasn't something you talked about. Is it that painful?"

"I... I'm not ready to talk about it," Yuuri admitted, "I don't know if I ever will, but... it doesn't have a happy ending."

"I see."

A crushed career, then. Something must have happened to have it burn down, without any sort of closure or happy ending. He knew he shouldn't speculate, or assume anything, but this tale had his attention. If it were such a failure in the skating world, how had he not heard of it? He shook his head, and rested a hand on Yuuri's knee, softening his touch at the gentle flinch he could feel.

"I had no intention of hurting you by mistaking your identity, Yuuri." Victor admitted, running the fingers of his left hand through his hair, softly laughing after a moment, "I honestly couldn't really see the similarities, I guess. I can be somewhat of a blockhead sometimes, and I'm sorry."

Yuuri found the urge to crack a smile. "I figured you didn't. Hearing you say it..."

Victor could see it slowly fade, the deadly grip of Yuuri's fears and issues. His shoulders were beginning to relax, and the smile have him enough strength to continue pushing to help Yuuri stand back up and ready for his performance. slowly, surely, Yuuri was finding the calm that rested outside of the storm that surrounded him. Victor gently squeezed Yuuri's knee, getting a look at Yuuri's watering eyes as tears threatened to fall. Gentle fingers, so precise and so cautious as if the skin he would touch could shatter under his fingertips, brushed the tears away.

"You amaze me, Yuuri," Victor announced, smiling softly, "Your budding abilities on the ice, and your mesmerizing performances on the stage... there seems to be a lot more about you then I ever imagined. I can't wait to see more."

"You'll stay?" Yuuri asked, that confidence that belonged to Eros rising up from the ashes. Victor nodded, squeezing Yuuri's knee again.

"You've given me a very important gift, after all. I got your attention, and you have mine." Victor raised the VIP badge, and pressed the laminated surface to his lips, "And like I said. I gave you a promise to watch you perform. I won't go back on it."

Yuuri took a deep breath, slowly exhaling out the tension in his body. His eyes opened, shining brightly with that burning passion that Victor had latched onto the night before. Yuuri looked down to Victor's hand, and covered it with one of his own. He let it stay there for a few minutes, gently holding onto Victor's fingers, spreading warmth through their digits before they pulled away, clenching into a fist. The silence of the time they simply touched brought a new breath into the duo, the club atmosphere fading away, leaving them in a space all their own, connected by touch, brought together by the will of a kind mutual friend.

"Thank you, Victor."

Victor nodded, letting his hand slip off of Yuuri's knee, smiling as the dancer stood up and tossed the blanket wrapped around him to the side. He offered a hand to Victor, his eyes lit in the fires of his passion, the triumphant and dazzling Eros returning at last.

"Care to help me get ready? My hair's a mess, and I'll need someone with skilled hands to change that."

Victor sighed in happiness, gazing into those warm brown eyes once again. Those eyes entranced him regardless of what emotions made them glitter and shine, or cloud and fog. They were clear windows into this man's emotions, his soul which he was just teasing him with. He reached out and took Yuuri's hand, ignoring the burn on his cheeks, and the beating of his heart against his rib cage as it sought to reach out to the dancer.

If the flirting was any clue, it seems he had successfully helped Yuuri out of his panic attack, or at least calmed him enough to where he could get back into the Eros persona.

"If you think my hands are skilled enough, I'll gladly help."

* * *

Victor proudly sat at his table, dead and center in front of the stage, in the third row of tables, and patiently awaited Eros' return to the stage. He fiddled with his VIP badge, closing his eyes and ignoring the stares that were on his back, and the murmurs of patrons all around at the sight of the badge. All of them had heard of the VIP badge, and all of them have hunted for one, at one time or another, for countless nights and days, hoping to catch the eyes of one of the staff and hope they were signed on permanently. Victor had in one night caught the eyes, heart, and full attention of the new talent as if he were simply reaching into a grab bag and pulled out the winning ticket without so much as a glance at the stakes of such a thing happening.

Perhaps it was luck. Perhaps it was solely thanks to Chris who had set them up to meet one another without the other knowing. Perhaps it was fate.

Being a romantic at heart, as sappy as it was, he liked to believe that it was fate. Something destined him to find this glorious man.

Falling for him at first sight on this stage as Eros, and growing a deep curiosity for the hidden depths of his abilities and person as Yuuri, it seems much like fate to meet him.

He could see the golden signature of Eros' name as he twirled the badge, giving another relieved sigh and letting the badge drop out of his hands, laying on the table he leaned forward onto in bated anticipation.

A new song started to play, prompting those who had waited so patiently for the show to begin to raise their eyes for the parting curtains as Sara strutted out. Cheers raised up as Sara urged them to the hype they should be at for the coming performances. She tapped on the mic in her ear, bowing to the patrons.

"Forgive us for the long, long break, patrons of the Hot Springs! We hope we have not discouraged any of you from tonight's showing. Art cannot be rushed, you know."

A few chuckles and laughs escaped patrons, while most whistled in earnest for the next stripper to hit the stage. Sara laughed with them, looking at Victor for a moment before sweeping her eyes over the crowd.

"Who's ready to be taken by Eros?!"

Victor couldn't help join in the chorus of the other customers screaming, hollering and whistling for Eros to come on stage once again and show them all just what sex on legs looked like. Victor gave a long whistle, earning a chuckle from Sara as she bowed to them all.

"Then let me stall no longer. Let me introduce our shining new star, the fan favorite! Eros, do your thing sweetie."

The lights dimmed, the crowd's excitement rising to a boil as they awaited Eros to come forth and dance, only to have another assistant from the back to run on stage, whispering to Sara in a quick, hushed voice, in what was obviously not English if Victor's ears were sharp enough. Sara nodded firmly, and signaled for the lights to turn back on quickly, the spotlights on her. Some of the crowd booed immediately, while others murmured in confusion. The air in the room stilled as many awaited the news that stopped their evening.

"Forgive me for this sudden announcement but there's been a change in the line up. I've just been told that Eros had decided to privatize his next performance for personal reasons. Before you get angry, do not fear! We will have our next best act come to fill the void. I know that a few VIPs are in the audience, so I would like to call Eros' VIP to the backstage for Eros' private performance."

Victor's thoughts didn't seem to understand for a moment, staring up at Sara as his heart all about stopped.

Private performance?

The heat and weight of the audience bared down on him then, the overwhelming attention pushing him numbly out of his chair as several audience members milled to await the back up performer to fill Eros' spot. Any who had come for last night's performance knew what Sara's words meant, and they let it be known. Eyes were on him as he took a breath, and looked to Sara who motioned for the backstage entrance to make his escape to this private show Eros would give him. Whispers of a new kinda surrounded him as he worked through the crowd in the Hot Springs to the backstage where security was starting to nervously look past him.

"I didn't expect that kind of reaction from them..." Sara whispered as she let Victor slip behind the curtains into safety, "They're acting like you've stolen their parents or something. I've never seen them so passive aggressive before."

Victor gave a noncommittal sound, letting the music take him off from the uncertainty that boiled from the crowd. He had come in, a newcomer with a reputation only known on the ice, and effortlessly taken the eyes of the new dancer and ridding everyone the chance to get to know him as intimately as Victor has. He took a deep breath.

The other patrons didn't matter.

He focused on Eros, on what this gift would be, as Sara led him to the second level, and a whole new mess of backstage preparations. He did his best to stick to Sara's side as they moved out of the backstage and out into the wilder scene of the second floor. Music boomed here, strippers joining in on the gyrating crowd. Sara pulled his arm and into a secluded corner marked with draped curtains and occupancy signs. She stepped to the side of one closed off curtained room, and gestured for Victor to go inside.

"Eros awaits. Don't have too much fun."

"Thanks."

Sara slipped away with a smile on her face, and Victor faced the closed curtains. Within would be Eros, Yuuri, the man who caught his heart, and he would have him all to himself. He pulled them open, and grinned immediately.

Upon the lone table in the small, circular room was his lovely Eros. Dressed up all pretty, his black shirt opened to show up his glitter-dusted chest and the most daring peek of a nipple thanks to his position on the table, leaning on his knees. His short brief rid up his thighs, showing off the glinting skin as the low lights illuminated every inch of his body. His fingers dragged through his slicked back hair as brown eyes rose to meet Victor's own widening ocean blue.

"Hello, Victor."

Victor could feel himself shudder, nervously swallowing at just how low and alluring his name was on those sinful lips. He took a breath, trying to keep calm as Eros beckons him closer with his finger.

"I wanted to give back the kindness you showed me. Take a seat, my VIP."

Victor was just glad he had enough air in his lungs to move after he stopped breathing for the second time thanks to this dangerously gorgeous man. He followed Eros' instructions, sliding into the booth around the table and leaning onto it as Eros spun around to face him. He leaned back into the leather booth, enjoying the sight of Eros on his hands and knees on the table before him, whistling softly as the dancer arched his back and ran his hands up his body, lacing his fingers together behind his head. His shirt opened more, revealing more.

It hit him like a bus. The memory of what he had seen the night before, the mistake that would be imprinted on his mind for the rest of his life.

He had seen this man completely naked and now he was right in front of him dancing for him, hidden out of sight.

"You're getting red, Victor."

"F-for reasons." he stuttered, trying to keep his eyes on Eros' face and not his glitter-covered chest and the black briefs he was wearing that was starting to dip and he could see that elusive happy trail again.

"I've only started, Victor."

Eros's finger was pulling his chin up, and he submitted without a fight. He moved Victor's face around before pulling him close, teasing him as his lips ghosted over him, refusing to touch Victor's lips.

"There's a lot more to see tonight. Now let me treat you for helping me out."

Victor could only nod.

"O-Okay."

* * *

 

The next morning was absolute hell, and he absolutely blamed Chris for the shit that came for him once he was on home ice.

Following Eros' 'thank you' for helping him calm down and work through his fears, he had to call Chris. Why did he have to call? He was rocking an erection that wouldn't go away, and there was no way he was walking home this aroused and this wound up. He would be jumped at first sight, he wouldn't survive walking through the main part of the city, much less the Redlight district. Chris was his only hope for a pickup, and perhaps some relief from the eyes on him as he stood awkwardly posed outside of Yu-topia, trying to hide his painful arousal and hoping no one would comment on it in the slightest. He wasn't blessed with a long enough shirt to hide it all, so it was at least partly visible.

Chris didn't help in the slightest, however.

The moment he got into his car, Chris was teasing him about being weak in the knees for this erotic man who also ice skated like a dork. It was humiliating, and at one point Victor ended up exclaiming something rude in Russian at him and all it got from Chris was a chuckle and a wink.

"I hope you enjoy your night with your hands, Victor" were Chris' parting words, cementing the embarrassment and shame in his bones at how easily aroused he had gotten.

As he laced up his skates, trying to keep his mind on track for training today, he couldn't help but flash back to the sight of Yuuri skating. He was absent of his powerful Eros persona, revealing the nervous skater underneath, the source of it all. A growing flower destined to bloom with a history unknown to the world. He was mysterious, and enigma, a shadowed hero in a story yet to be finished. He was so curious about him, about what hid under the surface, about what brought about the persona of Eros, and what Yuuri refused to reveal of his past on the ice.

He heaved a sigh, one he couldn't stop from being laced with the pleased feeling that numbed his limbs, and got off the benches. The blast of cold hit him lovingly as he opened the doors to the rink.

"Viktor!"

Mila.

He looked over to his approaching skating sister as she stopped at the gate, leaning over the barrier to beam at him.

"Your cheeks are so cute and pink. Were you thinking about Eros again?"

"W-Wha-"

The realization hit him as soon as he saw Georgi roll back them, hiding his shit-eating smile behind a hand.

Chris was going to die the next time he got time with him.

Georgi followed Mila to the edge, chuckling softly as he reached out to Victor. "I thought I was alone in chasing romance, but here Victor is, pining for a beautiful mystery man."

"Not just any mystery man," Mila reminded Georgi, elbowing him gently as she kept her eyes on Victor, "A sexy mysterious man who's a stripper."

"How was he described again, Mila?"

"The sexiest man to touch the ground, the mortal man with erotic wings! Eros, the exotic dining experience reserved for one lovestruck ice skating heartthrob."

Victor's head throbbed. He didn't get mad normally, but something about the mocking and teasing was irritating him. It was something more then a simple crush, and Yuuri was more then just his stripping routine. Georgi eyed him, noticing that Victor's hands were clenched at his sides. He didn't want this teasing, this poking and prodding, especially while he was still letting this feeling grow and grow. Frustration rooted him deep, annoyed by Chris' insistence to make his life harder in a time where he needed to keep calm.

"Замолчи."

Mila's eyes widened, mouth falling open. "You know we're teasing you, right? We didn't mean to-"

Victor stepped up to the open gate, eyes half lidded and staring daggers at Mila. Georgi skated back about a foot at the heat of his stare, and Mila jumped in surprise, sliding out of Victor's way as he moved onto the ice with an aggressive push off.

"YOU LOVE HIM DON'T YOU, VICTOR?" Mila shouted, earning a frustrated exclamation from Victor as he threw his hands in the air.

"I SAID Заткнись, ALREADY. Заткнись, Заткнись,  _Заткни пасть!_ "

Georgi laughed, following his brother's aggressive circuit around the rink. "You can't escape your feelings, _Vitya!_ Let them flow through you!"

" **Завали ебало!** "

All his frustrated exclamations did was fuel Georgi and Mila's cackling as Victor tried to escape their teasing and poking and prodding with skating. He ground his teeth together and threw himself into a triple axel, glaring at Mila as she threw a kiss at him as he rushed by her.

"Cursing in Russian won't save you, Vitya! Confess, confess, confess-!!"

Victor was going to kill all of them with his skates. He was going to kill them all for making him feel like a blushing, bashful teenager all over again.

He would deny it. Deny it until he died, no matter what! He wasn't that lovestruck, he wasn't that madly in love! He knew he felt love, he knew it was there, but his siblings on ice were blowing it out of proportion-

"Victor and Eros skating across the ice-"

_**"Отъеби́сь!"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> (from most polite to most rude)  
> Замолчи - zalmochi - shut up  
> Заткнись - zatnis' - shut the hell up  
> Заткни пасть - zatkni past' - shut your mouth  
> Завали ебало! - zavali yebalo - shut your fucking mouth/shut your fucking pie hole  
> -  
> Отъеби́сь! - Otyebís' - Fuck off!


	5. Frozen Burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE, I WAS SUPPOSED TO FINISH THIS YESTERDAY.
> 
> So as forgiveness, I've given you all some delicious plot and some teasing of plot!

The continued dramatic and overall unnecessarily frustrating and anger-filled performance of Victor Nikiforov skating to the beat of his heart and to the sounds of his laughing skating family lasted a while, thanks to Mila and Georgi egging him on with teasing gestures and words. The older Russian knew his family wouldn't let him live down that he had fallen in love and madly so, so he would make a show of his feelings and just hope skating would help calm down his nerves like it always did. He prayed silently that this wild impromptu routine would calm the rapid-fire boil that had come forth from his family's teasing. It wasn't like him to be so fired up, but he couldn't stop the feeling now that it was boiling hot.

It was working about an hour into his crazy, sloppy performance that Mila giggled instead of laughed, pausing on the ice as Victor moved through a series of spins in an intensive step sequence.

"You look like Georgi after a breakup, Victor."

Victor skid to a stop with his mouth wide open, looking immediately to Georgi who had stopped as well, pouting immediately and pointing a finger at Mila.

"That's a lie!"

The frustration within him bubbled still, reminding him that he had a friend to kill, but he zoned in on Georgi, hiding his smile behind his hand as he panted. Exhaustion clung to his limbs now that he had dropped out of the adrenaline-fueled tirade of skating. He had to keep remembering that his stamina wasn't the greatest for long programs, and he probably had ruined any chance for longer practice or intense jump training that day.

"It's really not, Georgi." Victor noted, earning a glare from Georgi this time.

Mila's grin returned as she turned to Georgi. "We should call it 'pulling a Georgi'. Whenever someone feels so much anguish, pain, or frustration, and they skate so passionately and violently it shakes the ice, they should yell to the ceiling that they are proudly pulling a Georgi!"

"Ah, yes~" Victor cried, reaching out to Georgi with a pout, eyes closed as his lips quivered theatrically, "Your words have burned my heart! How cruel of you! I must express my anguish from your teasing with an elegant Georgi performance!"

"Victor!" Georgi shouted, hand on his chest, expression wrought with sorrow, "Don't you dare, my brother! There is no need!"

"Forgive me, my dearest brother," Victor murmured, curling his hand to his chest, "You have done me an injustice, mocking the new love I feel for this glorious man that came into my life by chance."

Georgi skated forward, shaking his head and reaching out for Victor. "Dear Victor, I meant no harm! Could you find it in your heart to forgive your brother for his mistakes?"

"Georgi, my dearest... my faithful brother on ice," Victor lamented, turning his head to the side, covering his quivering lips, "You truly care for me. Even after your cruel words, you care."

"Of course, I do!" Georgi gasped, skating up to his brother, "I have always cared. I have never meant harm to you. It's simply been a long time since such light has come to your eyes."

Mila finally joined into their opera, skating up to Victor and placing a dainty hand on his shoulder.

"Big brother, do not seal your heart! We truly are surprised by the love in your eyes for this man. It seemed like a lost cause to ever see that brightness again."

"Truly, truly," Georgi agreed, "To see you smiling, and enjoying yourself once again is such a blessing! You deserve it so, Victor!"

Victor sniffled, his smile growing into a grin as he broke character, bringing Georgi and Mila into his arms and hugging them close. His Russian siblings laughed as Victor nuzzled their heads, basking in the joy of Victor's love and affection. The laughter rolled around them until Victor let his subside, letting his family out of his arms and happily spun in place. Mila gently slapped one of Victor's shoulder, flashing Georgi a smile as the second eldest flashed his own gleeful grin.

"That was so weird but it was fun." Mila noted, watching as Georgi and Victor kept close to one another.

"Being painfully theatrical can help in a lot of ways, Mila," Georgi noted, wrapping an arm around Victor's waist, "Such as breaking tensions, and getting a feel for the emotions you could express in your skating."

"Thank you, you two."

"Anytime, Victor!"

"It's good to see you smile again,  _brat_."

"GET BACK TO PRACTICE! If I wanted a theatrical performance, I would have called someone else to the rink. Now, get back to work!"

"Yes, Coach Yakov."

"WHO THE HELL IS THIS CHUBBY DUDE RECORDING?"

All eyes were on the new shouting voice echoing in the silent skating rink. None of the Russians had realized that Yuri Plisetsky, their youngest member in their ice skating family, had arrived to practice and past fashionably so. However, as he shouted and stormed into the room, he was not alone. In his grasp was a trembling man struggling to stay on his feet thanks to Yuri's insistent tugging of his hoodie. Yakov growled something rude in Russian before slamming down the pair of skate guards and shouting that official practice was over. He left with another storm of rushed, furious Russian, slamming the doors behind him.

"Seriously, who the hell is this, and why the hell is he here? This is our fucking private practice!" Yuri shouted, impatient by the lack of explanation, "One of you better fucking talk."

"U-um-" the man in Yuri's grip started to speak only to be shut up quickly by Yuri's growl.

"I don't want to hear you speak,  _svin'ya_."

Victor came closer to the edge of the rink as Yuri started to move out of the shadows of the door, revealing the man in his hands as he stepped into the light. Mila and Georgi followed closely behind, curious to who had been recording them and who now rested in Yuri's rather angry hands.

"I'm not  _that_  fat, you know."

"You are, now shut up. Where the hell did you learn to understand Russian, huh?!"

The man smirked, looking down at Yuri for a moment. "I thought you told me not to speak."

"I did, and I still don't want to hear your fucking voice! Oi, Victor! Explain to me why this pig is here at our rink!"

Victor leaned in, watching the man in Yuri's grasp squirm uncomfortably as he tried to get out of his hands. His black and blue jacket shuffled, his feet tried to move forward, and his eyes connected immediately to Victor.

Those expressive brown eyes.

"Yuuri!"

Yuri's eyebrow lifted immediately at the happy cry Victor gave, grimacing at the sight of Victor's mouth curling into the shape of a heart with the name on his lips. Yuuri's eyes widened, his mouth slowly lifting at the corners into a smile at the cry of his name

"Why the hell are you so happy?" Yuri questioned, growling softly at the shuffling Yuuri, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Not you, Yuri.  _That_  Yuuri." Victor clarified, pointing to the smiling man in Yuri's grasp, "His name's Yuuri too!"

"Victor!" Mila shouted, pointing at Yuuri with a grin, "Is that him?!"

Victor turned to his siblings and nods excitedly, turning back to grin at Yuuri as their younger Russian sibling lets the surprise guest go in disgust and confusion. Yuuri fiddled with his sleeve for a moment before clenching them around his phone. Victor cleared his throat and thrusted his hands toward Yuuri. The dancer flushed immediately at the attention paid to him, doing his best to ignore the rather hard and deadly dagger stare Yuri was throwing to him without anything held back.

"Everyone! This is Yuuri Katsuki. I would love that all of you get to know him, because he's going to be practicing with us from now on under me!"

Yuri jumped forward angrily. "ARE YOU SAYING YOU'RE COACHING THIS PIG?!"

Yuuri nervously looked to Victor, eyes blown wide in disbelief and awe. Despite the fear lingering, Victor could see the happiness and joy and elation from the news that the older Russian would be coaching him, or at the very least re-teaching him how to skate and perform again. Victor flashed Yuuri a gentle smile, encouraging and warm and filled with every ounce of excitement he had in his chest for this opportunity, and looked to the fuming blonde muttering under his breath at him.

"If that's what it's called, then yes I am. Yuuri hasn't skated in a while, so I'm going to help him back into his skates and back on the ice. There's a lot of work to do, but if Yuuri is willing to work for it, I'll get him back into top shape."

He looked to Yuuri once again, smiling as that oh so gorgeous expression of determination returned to the Japanese man's face. His fingers absently pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

"I'll give it my all!"

"Perfect." Victor could tell, however, that Yuri wasn't finished. "Is there an issue with that, Yuri?"

"Of course, there's an issue," Yuri hissed, glaring at Yuuri again, "This is bullshit."

"Yuri..." Mila murmured, immediately being cut off by Yuri's annoyed growl.

Yuuri stepped closer to Victor, eyes locked onto Yuri as he shook in anger, hands clenched into fists. Victor curiously looked between them, trying to understand the younger's rage and disgust for the newcomer on their ice but couldn't connect the dots that were around them. It didn't seem real logical to him that Yuri would be so upset over someone new coming to the rink and training. Yuri had been doing the same thing a few years ago, as he rose through the Novice and Junior ranks under Yakov. What was putting Yuri off so much to the idea of Yuuri joining them for practice?

"Do you want to talk about it?" Victor prompted quietly, keeping his voice level and steady. The rink wall separated him, Yuri, and Yuuri, and Yuri was a ticking time bomb with his anger. He didn't want to risk anyone getting hurt.

Yuri clicked his tongue after a moment in silence, thrusting his thumb to the door into the hallway. "Alone. Now."

Tensions in the air sharpened like a pulled back bowstring, Georgi and Mila frozen to the edge of the rink as Yuri scowled, flashing snarls at the other Yuuri as he waited for Victor to move and follow him as requested. Yuuri quietly asked with his eyes if it was alright, that he was safe here at the rink, and Victor did everything he could to express his safety through his smile and his eyes as he slid off the ice at the gate, and slid his skate guards over the blades. Yuri moved for the door as Victor approached, barely bothering to look back to ensure his elder would follow him. Victor gently squeezed Yuuri's shoulder as he approached.

"It'll be okay. Yuri can be quite a hothead because of his youth. Mila and Georgi can show you a few things while I deal with him alright?"

"You can count on us,  _brat_." Georgi confirmed. Mila nodded alongside him.

"I can get you some skates, and we can start on some practices. Sound alright, Yuuri?"

Yuuri took a moment to look over Victor's skating sibling. Victor could see apprehension in his eyes, even as it started to fade at the warmth that Georgi and Mila were almost professionally pushing out for him. He nodded in agreement after a moment.

"Okay."

"Awesome." Mila moved for the exit, grabbing her skate guards, "What size shoe?"

"What sizing system?" Yuuri knew enough that much of the world had different sizing systems, and he hadn't exactly clued in on what his new Russian friends used.

"I know them all. Throw one at me." Mila grunted, adjusting her footing and settling her covered blades on the ground. She stretched for a moment.

Yuuri smiled just a little stronger, and Victor could feel the tension melt away under Yuuri's happiness. The room lightened, and everyone could feel it. Georgi's shoulders relaxed as he casually leaned in closer, but not stepping off the ice just yet. 

"American men size eight."

Georgi chuckled quietly. "Tiny feet."

"Unlike yours, Georgi." Mila snorted, earning a roll of the eyes from Georgi.

"At least my feet are dainty compared to your angular mess of toes."

"That only gets you bonus points in ballet!"

Georgi raised a finger at Mila. "It's a bonus point though. Where are yours?"

"If I weren't busy, I would have you crashing and burning on the ice." Mila lightly growled, before playfully smiling, "Remind me to add 'Perform a Georgi' next week."

"I will." Victor volunteered before moving for the door that Yuri had disappeared into, "Have fun! I'll be back quick, I promise."

A chorus of 'yes' and 'alright' met his back as he moved on from the warmth of the atmosphere around the ice to the chilling numbness that surrounded Yuri and his anger.The smaller Russian was tapping his foot impatiently on the ground, watching Victor like a starving hawk, his eyes dark and dangerous. Victor calmly closed the door behind him, watching Yuri with careful but hardening eyes. He could see the tension in his limbs, the lines of his neck standing out.

"What the hell is that pig doing here?" Yuri asked immediately, stepping away from the wall he leaned on.

Victor shifted the weight on his legs, smiling as he spoke. "He's my friend, of course. I met him a few days ago, and he wanted to get back on the ice."

Yuri scoffed, a bitterly amused smile on his lips. "Seriously?"

Victor was taken back a bit by the amusement on Yuri's face, blinking in confusion as the Russian almost starting laughing at him, covering the amusement once it seemed impossible to control. His happy expression slid away into one of quiet annoyance, a not so obvious shift at the sight of the boy mocking his friend and his heart.

"What do you have against him?" Victor asked slowly.

Yuri didn't hesitate to move into Victor's space, making sure there was little room between them. His green eyes bore into Victor's as he spoke to him steadily, no hesitation or resistance in his voice. His expression was somewhat unreadable, revealing only a spark of true seriousness, something that made him look older. He practically spat the words at him with force, unyielding in his plain distaste for Yuuri Katsuki.

"He's going to ruin you."

"And how would you know?" Victor's voice was lowering, growing an edge as he continued, "What do you have against the other Yuuri?"

"You should trust me, Victor. You don't want him in your life."

Victor took a deep breath, stepping back to get some space between them. "Why not give him a chance? If you won’t, at least let me enjoy my time with him."

"Whatever. You're too fucking stubborn for your own good. Do whatever you want, but don't come back to me saying I was right."

Victor sighed, giving a weak smile that didn't convey much beyond his exhausted feeling at Yuri's insistence to break ties with Yuuri. It didn't make sense, and Yuri wasn't going to budge on the details as to why Yuuri was going to 'ruin' him. It seemed like a personal vendetta, perhaps jealously, but Yuuri didn't seem to know the blonde at all and almost seemed scared of him. It was understandable to be scared, as Yuri can come off entirely intimidating and cruel at times with his constant taunts, mean nicknames, and swearing. Perhaps he could convince Yuri to open up more, much like he had to do with Mila and Georgi upon his arrival at the rink out of Yakov's summer camp training.

"Give him a chance, for me,  _Yurochka?_ "

Yuri's face scrunched up in disgust, hissing at the sound of his name on Victor's lips. "Don't call me that. We're not family."

Victor's smile remained even at the slight burn of Yuri's words. They were a family, bound by the blades under their feet and the cold sting of the ice they danced on. Yuri was simply stubborn, he reminded himself. Yuri huffed, a final sound to signal the end of a tense and otherwise pointless talk, and turned around dismissively.

"Good luck with the train wreck you just hopped onto,  _Vitya_."

Victor's name on Yuri's lips dripped in poison, spat like it was trash and coated in gasoline. Victor watched Yuri walk away and disappear back into the locker rooms on the last words he threw over his shoulder, leaving the elder skater standing there in the heavy silence. He let the sound of the slamming door echo, and let himself take in the tension of the air, and the hostility trailing after Yuri, and tried to make sense of it all.

He knew Yuri. He knew how he acted, and even this level of hostility was out of place for the teenager.

Why did Yuri hate the other Yuuri so much?

Victor turned toward the doors behind him, the entrance back to the rink. Through the small windows, he could see Yuuri and Georgi on the ice, the Russian showing him the different angles of his blades, most likely showing him how to land on the outer or inner edge, or instructing him on better ways to move and stop. The sight brought a fresh smile to his lips, but it fell as he continued to take in Yuri's anger and arguments, his words replaying in his head.

Why?

Was there more to this?

Victor had too many questions, and not enough answers. He had too much confusion and not enough clarity. He would follow his heart, listen to its banging drum beats, and move through his life with Yuuri at his side now. The man made him happy, it made a new spark light in his chest, an inspiration that had died out long ago.

He wouldn't let Yuri hamper his happiness.

* * *

Mila looked up from her phone for a moment at the sound of shouting, smiling at the sight of Victor worrying over Yuuri after the latter had fallen on the ice once again attempting a double flip. It was amusing to see Victor so worried and attached to another person in such a way, and it was a change from the fake smiles, and forced happiness Victor had to have up while around the figure skating crowds. It was a change greatly needed as Victor had begun to sink deeper into a hole in himself.

She had taken the offer for a break from the ice once Victor had returned from talking with Yuri, though she had seen that it wasn’t an easy one from the way Victor put up another shield to hide the truth. She had seen it countless times now.

Victor promised later to explain what had been said, and it put Mila at ease knowing that he trusted her.

Her eyes locked once again on Yuuri. The ever curious Yuuri Katsuki. The same sounded somewhat familiar now that she could give it some more thought. Yuuri had mentioned to her that he had been on the ice before in some form, and Victor let it slip that apparently Yuuri had a competitive skating background, but nothing else seemed to come up on the subject.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she opened up a new tab on her phone’s browser, searching the name ‘Katsuki’.

“Nothing…?”

She bit on her bottom lip. The internet was going to struggle with her, then. She added a few new words. ‘Yuuri Katsuki’, ‘skating’.

That got her something. An old page, left abandoned for years now from the last date it was updated. It was from an ice skating website and network that catalogued different skaters from all over the world and from all disciplines.

The page highlighted his stats, and began with a picture of him in a picture spiral. She had to take a moment to just look at how graceful he looked in the photo, and just how happy he seemed to be as the picture scrolled to a new one where he stood on a podium with silver medal in one hand and bouquet of blue roses in the other.

“He looks good with his hair slicked back.”

Her eyes leveled to the information on the side of the photos, caught by surprise by the status displayed below his name. Most skaters would be active, or on leave due to injuries. She expected Yuuri perhaps to be on a break from skating, a long one perhaps, but she was caught by surprise by the status.

“Retired?”

Her eyes shot up immediately to Yuuri as he skated alongside Victor, all smiles and laughter as he slid along the ice and practices small single flips and single toe loops. Yuuri spun into a combination spin, sending Victor and Georgi skating back a bit from him to watch him spin and spin and spin like a graceful ballerina, ending his spin with a hand stretched to the sky. His grin couldn’t be wider, and Victor's applause couldn't be more boisterous.

She looked back to his status on the page.

Retired three years ago.

Much of the rest of the page simply told of his wins, and his former coach, and comments on his future plans. Old interviews were linked to his profile, but nothing on what caused his retirement, or why he never returned to the ice for a comeback.

"What happened, Yuuri...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> брат - brat - brother  
> свинья - svin'ya - pig


	6. Lights in the Cavern

Screaming.

There was screaming. A horrifying cacophony of sounds and screams and voices banging through his skull, an endless pounding that echoed in the darkness and shook his mind as it collapsed. So many voices, so many sounds and words, overlapping made his skull split open, and his own voice joined them. He wanted them to be quiet, he wanted the noise to disappear, it hurt to hear it all bang around in his ears like clashing pots, the impact of swords against one another, again and again. He wanted it all to stop so he could think, think away all the darkness and pain and sound-!

Pain.

Since when did it hurt? He had found himself in this darkness, in this abyss that was warm on its surface, wrapping him in comfort, but when he touched it, it was cold as ice. He couldn't understand it. Was it cold outside of the darkness? Was he as warm as a kind fire, as a space heater running on high in the corner of his room?

Just who was screaming?

The sounds, so many voices joined in one another rampaging through his mind and making sure the cracks that ripped through them deepened like trenches, were so far away and so close. It echoed in the air and screeched by his side, filling the air with fear and stripping the cold from his arms. Warmth continued to envelop him, the sounds of the voices beginning to fade away at last, giving him peace and quiet in the gentle black sea that carried his fractured mind, and his tired body. Life tingled back into his fingers as the warmth burned through his frozen body, reaching out into the darkness curiously to poke at the ice cold waves. Curiosity sated, he rested him on his chest, sighing happily as he let his eyes flutter and let the ocean take him away. He liked the quiet, he loved the feeling of warmth in his veins that took away the chill fermenting his limbs.

He wanted to sink into its depths, and disappear with the warmth.

Yes.

That felt right.

Let it consume him, flood him with warmth, and take him under the waves forever.

That would be his plan, then.

There was no need to return to the cold of the ice anymore, right?

The ice didn't matter. The freezing cold wasn't welcomed, right?

The warmth... of his dark, black, endless sea.

_" -ome on, Kats..."_

Kats...

Kats?

Was that his name?

The voices, they were returning. The choir of cries and calls for him, whoever he was now, were ringing out and making the ocean around him churn in disgust. He hated those voices, they hurt his mind and made him want to scream out at them. He wanted them all to shut up and to leave him knowing that he was safe within the ocean's black warmth. There was no need to call him from the shadows, or speak his name ever again.

His name. Whatever it was.

The cold was beginning to pull at his feet, and he screeched in fear of his. Warmth rushed to his toes to banish it from his body, and the screams around him rose in volume. He thrashed against the cold trying to take away his warmth, trying to pull him from the happiness of the darkness, and always those voices screamed at him. He screamed back at them to be quiet, to shut up, to do nothing but sew their lips shut.

_"Hold hi.... -E'S GOING TO..."_

The warmth took him entirely, suddenly in a rapid flash fire that had him gasping. Such a fire, such warmth that melted his core and burned away the anger that had chilled his insides. It was so welcoming and warm, he wanted it to burn him away into the darkness.

Yes... finally, he was far from the cold.

He could finally rest.

Away from the cold. Away from the light. Away from the voices.

He could finally rest his weary head on the waves of darkness.

The ocean would open for him, and from the depths came the greatest feeling.

He welcomed it with all of his being.

_"CALL AN AMBULANCE, NOW!"_

* * *

"Eros?"

Yuuri looked over his shoulder as Sara called for him from the doorway, flashing a smile to allow her in before turning back around and continuing to carefully apply the eyeliner he had been working on. He could hear her gentle steps approach him, and when he knew she would be behind her did he put down his pencil, double check the makeup to make sure it was symmetrical, and turned to her with one his flirty grins.

"Sara. What brings you here? I thought there was an issue at JJ's bar."

"There was, but luckily our resident narcissist Canadian is rather good at disarming drunk businessmen." Sara poked his chest, sighing softly, "Just wanted to check in. How's it going?"

"It's alright," Yuuri admitted, relaxing against his vanity, "I'm switching up my routine tonight from my usual. I've already gave the DJ the new track I'm dancing to, so don't worry."

"A new routine? What do you have in mind?"

 "You'll have to wait," Yuuri teased, nudging her with his hips, "I want to keep it a secret. It's going to be special. Speaking of special..."

Sara rolled her eyes, nudging Yuuri back with her hips. "Yes, Victor is out there already. Patiently awaiting his gorgeous Eros."

Yuuri couldn't help but blush lightly, poking at Sara's side as he moved from the vanity, stretching his upper body with a moan. He casually picked up the bottle of oil he had set on one of his couches, squeezing some out onto his palm and rubbing it alongside his left bicep. He knew that Victor liked the the glitter on his body the first night he met, and he would hold nothing back tonight. He felt powerful, more aware of the allure he had over people here in Yu-topia.

Maybe it was from the constant praise of yesterday's performance with the Russian skaters. They were so surprised by his spins, and his grace on the ice, despite the facts pointing to him being a novice again.

Were his skills coming back?

He found himself frowning, and then closing his eyes as his expression darkened.

Did he even want to have his skating skills back again?

"Yuuuuuuuri~"

Without a knock to warn them, the door of Yuuri's private room opened, and Yuuri's quick dive with fear disappeared in an instant at the sight of his visitor.

"Phichit!"

His longest held friend, behind his childhood friend Yuuko, leaned playfully but seductively against the door frame, slicking back his hair dramatically as he grinned at Yuuri, laughing before moving toward the dancer with arms wide open. Yuuri couldn't hold back his happiness at seeing his Thai friend, and gladly accepted him into his arms with a laugh. Phichit poked at his chest after a moment, noting that Yuuri hadn't finished his job of making himself look like he dunked himself into a vat of oil and then dumped glitter all over his skin. The scenario brought another laugh out of him, glancing at Sara.

"Can I have a moment, Sara?"

"Of course, of course!" she exclaimed, smiling warmly, "I'll let the Hot Springs know that you're almost ready. Don't take too long, okay?"

"I promise." Yuuri called out as Sara left, closing the door quietly behind her.

"So," Phichit prompted, leaning over one of the couches, "I heard from a little birdie that you have found someone."

Yuuri blushed bashfully, fiddling with his fingers for a moment, and then with the bottle he had in his hand. "Y-Yeah I did. Chris actually somehow set us up. He's... well if you're back here you should have seen him already in the Hot Springs."

"Really? I didn't really see anyone surprising there. Expect Victor Nikiforov. I didn't think he would ever go to strip clubs. I know Chris knows him - he's so lucky ! - but I hadn't thought he would bring him here, of all places."

Yuuri smiled, immediately setting off Phichit who sat up strikingly quick in surprise. His jaw fell, but quickly recovered from the shock as Yuuri continued to rub the glitter paint over his shoulders.

"No way."

Yuuri nodded. "Chris brought Victor here a few nights ago. I... I think he might like me, Phichit."

"You catching Victor Nikiforov's attention? That's unreal, it really is, Yuuri."

Yuuri laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. However, slowly, he picked up on the edge on the words, the other meaning behind them, turning to find Phichit's eyebrows furrowed together, concentrating before letting out a heavy breath and changing his gaze as he lifted his eyes to Yuuri once again.

That look. That same scared, worried look he had been given countless times in the past years.

"Phichit..."

"You've been ice skating again, haven't you? With Victor?"

Phichit's tone wasn't accusatory, or demeaning. Instead it was soft, gentle, laced in the worry that had always come up on the subject of ice skating. His friend was worried for him, and worried about him, and rightfully so.

Yuuri bit his lip, looking to his vanity for a moment before venturing toward it, taking slow, deliberate steps in case his memory decided to drag him down to the floor once again. Shaking hands clutched the hard wood of the vanity, and sweat began to roll down his neck.

"I-I have. Just... something about Victor reaching for me helps me. I... I want to try again."

"Yuuri." Phichit's voice was worrisome, caution in every slowly spoken syllable. He came up behind Yuuri, placing his hands on Yuuri's back, his eyes shouting at him about his concern, "Are you sure?"

"For the first time in three years... I put on a pair of skates. I'm skating again. Victor keeps telling me that it looks like I never was off the ice for more then an off-season period. It feels so... natural again. I want to give it a try, Phichit. For him," Yuuri took a breath, lifting his eyes to his mirror, and seeing his eyes reflect the feelings within.

He was terrified, he was scared. He didn't feel steady yet back on the blades of skates, on the slick ice. He wasn't ready for anything intensive, and he was lucky he could do jumps at all. It felt normal but he knew it was the farthest from normal. There was a reason he left the ice, there was a reason it took three long, painful years to ever think about going anywhere close to an ice rink again. There was a reason he lived in this city, working an honest living as a dancer, and staying back from the skating dream he had so briefly gotten before it shattered into pieces.

"For him and for myself."

Phichit sighed softly, resting his head on Yuuri's back, feeling him slowly breathe in and out, calming down from the rush of memory, of realizing that what he was going to do, and what he had been doing since meeting Victor, could risk him ad his friends again. Phichit gently pressed his lips to Yuuri's shoulder, and ran his hands over the flexing muscles of his friend's back. Yuuri softly aighed as he let Phichit's hands run over his shoulders, slide over his neck and face, and glide into his hair. Quietly, Phichit let his lips silently run over his back to the back of his neck, and his fingers sought out Yuuri's forehead. Yuuri shuddered at the touch, curling into Phichit's hold as he sighs against his skin.

In the settled silence, Phichit let his fingers roam across Yuuri's forehead, curl through Yuuri's hair, and carefully slide his lips across Yuuri's neck.

"Please be careful, Yuuri," Phichit murmured against Yuuri's skin. His hands slipped and teased Yuuri's skin as they fell slowly, returning to Yuuri's shoulders before slipping down to hold onto Yuuri's biceps, "Promise me, _puan sa-nit_. _Kor_..."

Yuuri relaxed against Phichit at the sound of the softly spoken Thai, knowing immediately what the words meant. They warmed his heart, and helped him through the darkest of days, and the most dangerous of nights. The sound of his voice speaking his native tongue, the feeling of his hands reminding him that he was grounded to earth, and the touch his lips telling him that he was never alone. Everything Phichit did with him reminded him that things were not that dark.

He quietly turned profile to look into Phichit's eyes, taking one of his hands and bringing it to his lips to kiss the knuckles. He let his lips trail down his friend's middle finger before returning to the knuckles once again.

" _Phom sanya_." Yuuri whispered against his fingers, meeting Phichit's cloudy, emotional gaze, " _Phom sanya_."

" _Kòp kun_." Phichit replied quietly, gently squeezing Yuuri's fingers.

Yuuri smiled softly, planting one last firm kiss on Phichit's knuckle before returning the hand to his friend. " _Mâi bpen rai_. I'll talk about it more later, okay?"

"Alright." The brightness in Phichit's face returned, and it filled Yuuri back up with the power he needed for tonight's performance.

"Let me finish getting ready. I'll see you out there, right, _puan sa-nit_?"

Phichit grinned. "Of course you will. I wouldn't want to miss you."

Yuuri nodded, waving Phichit goodbye as he slipped out of the door with a wink. Now back in solitude and silence, Yuuri turned back to his vanity mirror, smiling gently to himself as he traced the path Phichit's lips had taken across his neck and shoulder.

For tonight, Yuuri Katsuki, the reserved and frightened retired skater, would disappear behind red silk curtains, and reappear as Eros, the erotic dancer who could enchant anyone with his body.

And Eros would bring to the gracious people of Yu-topia's Gentlemen Club, to the Hot Springs, and to his beautiful and alluring VIP, Victor Nikiforov, the most sexual, the most erotic, and the most hypnotizing performance in his career as a stripper.

Licking his lips, he plucked his abandoned bottle, and continued to cover his skin in glitter and oils, making sure he looked like a greased up god ready to seduce mortals who would fall to their knees before his beauty and sexuality.

He paused as his hands reached his neck, smirking as he looked at himself in the mirror. He let his fingers tease his cheeks, giving them just a glancing addition of glitter. He quickly wiped his hands off, and licked his lips once again before turning from the vanity. He grabbed what he had draped over the couch for his performance, and snapped it against his hand before stretching it taunt.

The leather straps would work tonight.

"Showtime."

* * *

Victor knew the cues around Yuuri's performances, and knew the music he normally danced to now. He had a few performances he stuck to, and didn't normally stray from them. He added things, changed things around, and sprinkled the performances with minor changes, but otherwise stuck to them like a rule book. So it was surprising to hear a [new song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mz_FwW9dQ2w) begin to play as smoke bellowed out over the stage, the crowd roaring up in surprise. Slowly, Yuuri rose out of the smoke, appearing as nothing but a grey silhouette against the white smoke as the intro of the song played, growing louder and louder as it pounded in everyone's ears.

Yuuri's arms rose with the pounding beat, and as threw his arms out to his sides, the song flowed into the first lyrics, and the smoke cleared.

Victor's jaw hit the table.

The first thing Victor could focus his eyes on was how Yuuri was glowing once again in the light of the spotlights, his chest glittering like sparkling silver. Glistening skin was covered just as glistening black leather straps, wrapping around his chest in an x formation and wrapped around his shoulders. Additional black straps wrapped around his arms, the spaced between filled with fishnet. He was wearing those slow hung black slacks from a few nights ago, the same pants Victor clearly remembered loved to slide down and show off more of his glorious hips, and tease that happy trail of black hair down the middle of his delicious V.

As the bass pounded, Yuuri snapped his hips side to side, rolling his body with the music as he strutted up to the pole before him. Every roll of his body, every single snap of his hips, of his arms, made the angles of his sculpted physique looked more defined. It made every little soft spot, the spots across Yuuri's stomach that yielded nothing to his workout regimen and exhaustive job, look as if it belonged there.

The next body roll Yuuri did brought the woman around the stage to their feet, waving bills at him as he rounded the stage, one hand on the pole, letting his lust-clouded eyes work through the faces of the crowd. Once Yuuri's eyes found Victor's, it was the end of Victor's life. Those clouded eyes, staring at him with unreserved, unbridled want sent shivers down Victor's spine. Yuuri didn't hesitate to lick his lips as sexually as possible as he passed by Victor, spinning around the pole, and finally beginning his routine. 

Victor stood with the rest of the crowd, hypnotized by Yuuri's body as he wrapped himself around the pole, sliding down until he almost hit the floor. Hollering for more faded into the music as Yuuri stretched out his legs, rolled onto the floor on his hands and knees, and easily curled into another body roll. The cheers almost eclipsed the music, especially as Yuuri looked to Victor once again. Victor couldn't stop himself from moving to the stage at the cheer of the woman at the table in front of him, meeting Yuuri at the edge as the dancer crawled over to him.

"You're going to kill me." Victor whispered, leaning into Yuuri's hand as it caressed his cheek.

"You can't die yet, Victor," Yuuri murmured, lifting Victor's chin with his index finger, "The show's just started. Keep your eyes on me, and only me."

Yuuri didn't give Victor ample time to answer, pulling away and running his hands down his body, teasingly tempting Victor with the sight of that trail of hair. Victor's jaw dropped once again, and all Yuuri could do was smirk and continue to tease as he stood up again, giving Victor the perfect view before he lifted his hands away and sauntered back to the pole.

It was a miracle that Victor hadn't lost himself yet, but oh he was so close to it. Yuuri had turned up the heat without a care in the world and Victor wanted to drown in it. Yuuri was nothing short of a god on stage, charming every man and woman in the room with nothing but his body. That gloriously shaped, glitter-covered body of his.

Victor could hear the celebratory cheers from the woman behind him, whooping it up on his behalf. Victor watched as Yuuri climbed back up onto the pole, high off the ground. He wrapped his thighs around the pole, crossed his ankles, and bent backward, gazing at Victor upside down on the pole, earning the cheers of the Hot Springs once again.

Yuuri's gaze spoke for him.

 _Eyes on me_ , they told Victor, _Eyes only on me_.

"Only for you, Eros."

Yuuri smiled, reaching out to touch Victor once again, taking his face in his hands for a moment.

"Good. Just keep looking at me, and I won't disappoint you."

"I don't doubt it for a moment."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Thai-  
> เพื่อนสนิท - puan sa-nit - close friend, intimate friend  
> ขอ - kor - Please  
> ผมสัญญา - phom sanya - I promise  
> ขอบคุณ - kòp kun - Thank you  
> ไม่เป็นไร - mâi bpen rai - You're welcome


	7. Desynchronization

"Oi, Katsudon."

Yuuri paused in his quiet laps around the abandoned rink at the sound of the nickname, a name he hadn't been called since his days on the rink. Surprise filled his face at the sight of Yuri Plisetsky standing alongside the rink, watching with a quiet curiosity and without any sort of inclination to join the man on the rink. Yuuri paused, having finally relearned how to stop gracefully like he once had before, and skating over to Yuri, nervously taking hold of the barrier between them.

"Is everything okay, Yuri?”

"Fine," came the bitter response, before something in Yuri softened, and his expression of annoyance melted away in concern.

The rink had been abandoned long ago, the other Russians skating in the other rink to prepare for upcoming season that was due to begin. Victor, Georgi, and Mila were aiming for an explosive start of the season and are aiming for the Grand Prix Final once. They were focused in on training in the past two weeks. Yuri was gearing up for his explosive senior debut so he could finally challenge his fellow rink mates on the same ice, but had seemed to calm down about training unlike the others. Instead, the young blonde had his eyes focused in on Yuuri when he came to watch or to silently practice on his own. The blond took long strides to make it appear as if he were simply keeping an eye on the man since he was new on the ice but everyone could see that Yuri was watching for another reason, another purpose.

Despite the time apart, becoming worlds apart after his departure on the ice, Yuuri recognized that look and his own worried expression turned anxious.

"I want to know why you're here."

"I... don't understand."

Yuri leaned in closer to Yuuri, eyes showing his frustrations and pain. "Why are you back on the ice? Why are you here, Katsuki?"

Yuuri forced himself to smile, trying to calm the rapid pounding of his chest. He knew they would panic, that they would worry to the ends of the earth now that Yuuri had touched the ice once again. Like he had told Phichit, it had been three long years away from any sort of ice rink, from anything resembling ice skates. He hadn't wanted anything to do with skating, be it casual, professional, or competitive. He wanted it out of his life for the first time, and now after three years away from the ice, his eyes set on a new life and a new career, he finally found his eyes on the ice. He finally decided to look back and found his inspiration to dare go back in Victor Nikiforov. Victor, who was once a mysterious man who Chris had set him up with, had always been there he had realized.

He was the king of the ice, the current ruler of the skating world. Yuuri had been steadily climbing the ranks when he had been professionally skating, and he had almost begun to rival Victor in certain aspects.

Three years without so much as a glance at the skating world had made him forget so much.

He could only imagine what pain had grown in Yuri at the sight of him back in skates, and back near the ice.

"I guess it was Victor. I... I don't really know why I want to skate again."

"You shouldn't, and you know it," Yuri hissed quietly, "Not after that."

"I have no plans to go back to competing. I don't think I ever could come back after that," Yuuri admitted, looking down at his skates briefly, "I can't imagine trying again. I just... want to skate."

"Doing jumps and spins like you used to in competition isn't casual skating," Yuri scolded him softly, his brows furrowing together, "I just don't get it. It makes no fucking sense why you would step back on the ice, and yet Victor steps into your life and you jump back into a pair of skates. I want to know why."

"I... can't describe it," Yuuri struggled to find words, to try to accurately describe why he would ever find the courage to return to the ice and to try to skate once again, "It's been three years. I never wanted to come back. But seeing Victor skate again, seeing that I had such an effect on him... I don't know. Maybe he's having an effect on me, Yuri."

Yuri seemed to take Yuuri's words into consideration for a moment, watching Yuuri with strikingly emotional eyes before heaving a sigh and shaking his head, glaring at Yuuri before closing his eyes again. Yuuri stiffened, fearing the worst would come for him after making him worry once again. Instead, he was met with a sharp poke, gasping in confusion as Yuri poked at Yuuri's forehead with a frown.

"Yuri...?"

Yuri scoffed, shaking his head again, digging his finger into Yuuri's forehead. "Ease up on the jumps. Focus on your step sequences. You're sloppy. You were never sloppy when it came with your step sequences."

Yuuri flushed in embarrassment, chuckling just under his breath at the idea that Yuri had been staring at him because he was sloppy on his footwork and emotional skating. He pulled Yuri's finger from his head and shook his own head, and then nodded at him.

"I am rather sloppy with my step sequences. It's been a while, and it doesn't help I have to think about my next song for my job, and figuring in training and things. I'm kind of all over the place nowadays."

"Speaking of your job... what do you do now?"

Yuuri skated backward for a moment, pushing his bangs back out of his face, giving Yuri a smirk.

"I'm a... dancer."

Yuri leaned against the barrier, giving Yuuri a look. "A dancer? A dancer that  _Chris_  knows?"

"Yep." Yuuri chirped, spinning for a moment.

The look of disgust on Yuri's face was priceless, and it brought a snort out of Yuuri. The sound only seemed to make the look on Yuri's face sour, and that brought Yuuri into a fit of laughter.

"I don't know whether to be fucking disgusted or utterly impressed!" Yuri exclaimed, stepping back from the rink, "Are you really serious about that?!"

"Learning how to pole dance helped me slim down." Yuuri called out as Yuri attempted to retreat, "It's really good exercise!"    

"LIKE I NEEDED TO KNOW THAT!"

Yuuri laughed at the amusing exclamation, a genuine sound that left Yuri speechless as Yuuri brushed tears out of the corners of his eyes. The older ex-skater looked at Yuri after calming down, giving him an expression that was at best unreadable and at worst a mix of sadness and melancholy. Yuri had seen in once before, the last time they had met three years ago. He had spent a year hovering around, hoping and wishing, that things would get better but all he got was disappointment. That burning sting of disappointment had him saying things he would somewhat regret years later, and to this day he had quietly wished that he could re do what he had done the day Yuuri Katsuki announced his early retirement from competitive skating.

Slowly, Yuuri reached up to his face, and slid his glasses off his face. The motion left Yuri curious and confused, but didn't speak up on Yuuri's plans. The blond watched with apprehension as the older skater came up to him, the barrier dividing them, and offered the glasses to him. Confusion growing, Yuri took them, staring at them in his old palms before looking up at the older man.

"I've been thinking about what I could do on the ice, and I wanted to know if I still can do it."

Yuri nodded, his fingers cautiously wrapping around Yuuri's glasses. Yuuri turned to skate a few feet away, pausing before turning to look over his shoulder at Yuri.

"Watch me."

The rink fell into silence as Yuuri skated to the middle of the rink, the slice of the blades against the ice building the sudden tension rising between them. Yuri had grown worried every time Yuuri would attempt anything on the ice that warranted airtime, or put him at risk of losing the skates under his feet. He solemn acknowledged verbally that he was worried, but he figured his lack of bodily control warned anything that the normally angry and defiant teenager was caring for another. Yuuri took a breath before striking his left toepick against the ice and taking a starting position.

Hands placed on his chest, looking to his left off into nothing. His expression softened, turning weary and exhausted before slipping effortlessly into a melancholy. A yearning expression, a weary form.

The air rushed out of Yuri's lungs as a gasp.

He knew that position, he knew immediately what Yuuri was going to do.

Even without the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTQOmzIqNV4) in his ears, or the quieting roar of a crowd, or the announcer overhead announcing Yuuri's theme and music choice, Yuri knew what Yuuri was performing.

Yuri was ten when Yuuri first performed this, and he had been mesmerized by the emotional and hypnotizing skating he performed.

This was Yuuri Katsuki's free skate from five years ago, a performance that helped him win silver at his second Grand Prix Final appearance.

He remembered how Yuuri had described the program in an interview following his performance.

> _"I wanted to make something that described the feeling of yearning, of melancholy. After discussing things with my coach, I felt something more subdued, but emotional fit better. Sometimes the best way to convey feeling is when you've lost something, or are watching something disappear before your eyes. This program is about the feeling following you as something slips away, as you fall asleep realizing that when you wake up, you've lost something so precious you struggle to get out of bed."_
> 
> _"Astounding! You absolutely nailed it on the head tonight, that feeling. Now, what about the music choice? You decided to use a violin cover of the song instead of the original. Why is that?"_
> 
> _"I felt that the violin cover conveyed more, at least when it came to what I was aiming for. I have nothing against the original, but when I found that cover..."_

Yuri opened his eyes, finding Yuuri staring at him as he finally began to skate, and all could see was that performance once again.

He was coming into his skates then, beginning his journey from Novice to Junior, at least in training under his coach. Yakov and his grandfather finally agreed to take him to see the Grand Prix Final after missing all the other qualifying competitions. It would take him to Canada, and he was elated as he sat in his chair, looking over the ice from his place. Yakov was down below with his skaters who made it in the final. Two had made it, one for the Men's Single and one for the Women's Single. Yuri could immediately pick out Victor Nikiforov from the crowd of skaters. Victor was the biggest thing in the skating world, readying for what could be the start of a legacy. However, Yuri found himself searching the crowd for another.

It didn't take too long to find Coach Celestino in the crowd, and alongside him his pupil, his rising star trailing behind Victor, Yuuri Katsuki.

Yuuri had been making history since his late start into the Senior's division, but the late start did nothing to stop him. He climbed the ranks quickly, becoming a fiery competitor in what was basically a playground for Victor. The Japanese skater was magnificent, pulling off incredible spins and presentation, outshining Victor in some places with the raw emotion and story he built into his programs. Yuuri was eclipsed by Victor when it came to jumps, but Yuuri had an ace up his sleeve that helped him make up for some over rotations and stepped out landings that plagued the rising star's routines.

The quad Lutz.

Victor's quad Lutz needed work, from what Yuri had always seen. His landing was shaky at his best, and sloppy or outright a failure at his worst, and it showed in competition despite being at his best. Yuuri, on the other hand, had perfected it much like Victor had perfected his quad flip.

The lights dimmed, and the announcers began by welcoming everyone back. The crowd continued to roar as the screens around the arena showed off the Men's Singles short program and the skater's scores.

There were names he didn't know, skaters he didn't recognize just yet. He could pick out the names that mattered, that he knew from experience, from his time skating and training alongside Victor and Georgi.

Christophe Giacometti. He had placed first with a surprising score of 101.32 in his short. He honestly hadn't expected the Swiss to even get close considering the skill of Victor and Yuuri, but he had applauded him for his performance and score. He still was dubious regardless.

Victor Nikiforov. He fell just short of Chris' score with a 100.56. He wondered how much of a lecture he had gotten from Yakov for the little mistakes he had made, especially in his last jump. 

Yuuri Katsuki. He held a firm hold of third with an impressive 98.87. Yuuri had slammed his old personal best out of the window with his performance, and it had left Yuri breathless once the score was released. He was eight points above the American in fourth place, and Yuri knew Yuuri would be untouchable.

The Final had been decided. Those three would place on the podium without a doubt.

Yuri blinked once again, watching Yuuri reach out to the silent seats of the rink, following a routine that had earned him silver, that captured his intense focus on presentation and emotion, and that gave Yuri a final reason to look away from Victor, from Georgi, from the other top skaters under Yakov's wings, and look to another. The sound drew Yuri in, so close to jump leaping over the barrier as Yuuri glided through a beautiful inside-out spread eagle, and gloriously moved into an Ina Bauer. The step sequence, tender in the way Yuuri reached out and relatable as Yuuri spun out of his spins and looked to the sky for guidance, was nothing short of breathtaking.

The lights around the stadium were blinding, but Yuuri stood out among the lights in his [free skate outfit](http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xU9cgFAmAlk/VH6U4U4iAYI/AAAAAAABMSw/Q9ABpmSEhTg/s1600/YuzuruHanyu_SP.jpg). Small sequins glittered, but did little more then to make Yuuri look like a shining stone dimmed from use. His appearance matched the serious but tender atmosphere of his skating. Yuri leaned in close as the music began, watching in glee.

Past blinked in between the present. Yuri could see what he had been graced to witness five years ago, and he could watch Yuuri now in the present, a retired skater who still held the spark from years past.

Victor had taken gold that year, the beginning of a winning streak that would shock many, and surprise everyone, with a total score of 302.94.

Chris had clung to bronze, despite his win at the short program, with a total score of 291.03. Yuri had wondered how Chris had flubbed some of his jumps in his free skate, but didn't ever find out.

Yuuri had stolen the show with his jaw-dropping free skate and took silver, his first podium placement at the Grand Prix Final, with a total score of 300.44.

Yuri fondly remembered that day so well, so vividly.

"What do you think, Yuri?"

Yuuri's voice was far off for the Russian, blinking rapidly, forcing his eyes to keep from shedding tears.

How could he forget that day?

"Even without the jumps..." Yuri finally found his voice, and found a smile to stretch his lips with.

That day five years ago, at the tender age of ten, was one he wouldn't let go.

"Even without the jumps, it was a good copy."

Yuri met his idol five years ago, at the Grand Prix Final. He stood with Yakov as they milled through the venue, and at the sight of the silver medalist, rushed toward him with the angry voice of his coach calling him back. Once Yuri had reached the medalist, he fidgeted and pulled out his phone, holding it in front of him now that he had the attention of the skater, and the press around them.

> _"Can I get a photo with you, Ka... Katsuki?" the name rolled off Yuri's tongue oddly, but Yuuri hadn't laughed at him. Instead Yuuri smiled and knelt down alongside him._
> 
> _"Of course, you can. What's your name?"_
> 
> _"Yuri! Like you!"_
> 
> _Yuuri chuckled, helping Yuri adjust his phone so they could take a selfie. "I've heard about you, Yuri."_
> 
> _Yuri held it together for the photo, but promptly took a hold of Yuuri's jacket at the revelation spoken. "Really? You've heard of me?"_
> 
> _"My coach talks with your coach. You're a topic that's been coming up. You've got a lot of work ahead, but I think you'll make it no problem."_
> 
> _All Yuri could do was gape and look up at his idol, trying to ignore the bristling shiver up his spine now that he could hear his coach call for him again. Yuuri looked over his shoulder, sighing and patting Yuuri's head as he stood again._
> 
> _"I can't wait to see what you become on the ice, Yuri."_

"You remember it, don't you, Yuri?"

Yuri let his hands slide off the barrier, smiling quietly to himself as he gave the older man a nod. He reached down to pull his skate guards off his blades, and moved for the open gate.

"I remember watching you win silver. I remember you telling me you couldn't wait to see what I would become on the ice."

Yuri skated up to the now quietly smiling Yuuri, pausing right before him with a hand on his hip. It had been five years since they first met, four years since Yuuri had disappeared from the competitive figure skating scene, and three years since Yuuri Katsuki gave up on ever returning to the ice. He had five years of experience under his belt, his senior debut on the heels of his feet. Even if Yuuri was retired, if he wouldn't ever come close to competitions again, he wanted this.

He waited five goddamned years for it.

"Let me show you what I've become. It's been five years. You owe me that and more, Katsuki."

Yuuri nodded, offering up the ice with a gesture of his hand.

"Show me."

* * *

 "Yuuuuuuri! Are you in he-"

Mila and Georgi crowded behind Victor as he stalled between the doors, staring at the rink with wide eyes. His siblings inquired at what he was staring at until they could get high enough, or in Mila's case around Victor, to see what Victor could and all of them stopped cold at the sight.

Yuri and Yuuri were quietly copying one another, the younger showing the older how to better position himself in a Ina Bauer. The duo were lost in their private bubble, teaching and coaching one another in the quiet and cold and warmth of one another's company. Soft laughter echoed around the rink as Yuuri paused, laughing at something Yuri had said. The blond was all smiles, posing dramatically all of a sudden and earning more laughter from the older retired skater. 

When they had first met, Yuri hated him. The blond wanted nothing of the other skater, and warned Victor to abandon him. What was this, then? Was Yuri ignoring his own advice?

Victor couldn't stop himself from wondering if perhaps those two had known one another. 

Victor feared ruining this tender, private moment with his presence, but his siblings crowding him from behind had other ideas as Mila started to climb over him.

"M-MILA!"

The shout brought the eyes of the two on the ice as Mila tried to clamber over Victor's shoulders, sending the older skater forward as she roared out in victory as she got onto his shoulders, only to realize that her weight was throwing Victor off balance, and both were heading for the ground. Victor shouted something in Russian as both fell to the ground, Victor squished under Mila as his face hit the ground, luckily turning his head to the side to avoid breaking his nose. Though his head was pounding from the hit, and his ears were ringing, he could hear Georgi groan in pain for him, hear Mila groaning from the fall, and the shout of his name from Yuuri. 

"Victor! Mila!"

"I-I'm okay." Victor groaned, wiggling so Mila to roll off his back, "My face and back hurt but I'm okay."

"Mila." Georgi scolded, "You need to be more patient."

"I know, I know," Mila groaned after a moment, "You are not a good landing pad, Victor."

"Obviously not," Victor argued, slow to rise to his feet as Yuuri, now with skate guards on his blades, helped him into a sitting position, "I have bones, they aren't fun to land on."

"Are you okay?" Yuuri's voice was rushed, frantically looking over Victor, "You hit your head hard, are you dizzy or anything?"

Victor softly chuckled at Yuuri's worry, trying to gently but politely push Yuuri's hand off of him before the younger man worried himself over him. "Yuuri, it's okay, it's okay, no need to-"

Yuri poked at Victor as he passed by him, moving to Mila to help her get her bearings. "Let him. You hit your head pretty hard."

"I'm okay," Victor chuckled, rubbing the sore spot on his head. Yuuri's hand covered his, worry and fear pouring off the younger man. Victor reached out and gently patted Yuuri's head with his other hand, "I'm okay, Yuuri. Just a headache."

"You're bruising."

Victor's smile tightened, knowing that he would bruise. He could feel the burn in his skin, the pain pouring out of the spot he hit. He relaxed into Yuuri's hand, allowing him to cover the spot and hide the pain even though it stabbed at his head. The worry seemed to be glued to Yuuri's expression as Victor allowed him in, resting against him quietly as he let the pain fade enough for him to stand up. Georgi was next to worry, checking Victor's forehead out just in case anything else happened, but it seems Victor dodged wounds and was going to have a nasty bruised on his head.

"Of all places to bruise," Victor commented quietly, "It had to be my forehead."

"It's what you get for eavesdropping on us. You get to show off your ugly ass bruise on your huge ass forehead." Yuri sneered, chuckling as he inched closer to Yuuri once Victor turned to give the younger boy a sharp glare.

"Yuri." Yuuri only needed to say his name. The blond scowled but laid off the comments, keeping close to Yuuri regardless.

"Actually, we came in to talk to Yuuri." Mila announced, joining the others in their weird circle of conversation, "We wanted to ask you something."

"Um, okay."

Victor stepped up this time. "How would you like to try competing again, Yuuri?"

Yuuri reacted immediately, eyes widening, his mouth hanging open in shock. He looked nervously to the side, stuttering on his words. Yuri reacted quicker, putting himself in front of Yuuri, hiding him from the eyes of the other Russians.

"No fucking way."

Mila's eyes widened in surprise. "Yuri?"

"No way in hell is he going back into competition." Yuri challenged, passing a look over his shoulder as Yuuri struggled still to answer, or to look at the others. Yuuri's eyes fell upon Yuri, but he didn't seem to go against Yuri's decree.

"It's his decision, Yuri." Victor challenged back, looking to Yuuri first, who tried his best to hide behind Yuri, and then to Yuri, who looked ready to tear them apart with his teeth.

Yuri scowled, looking to Yuuri as the man avoided eye contact, bowing his head. Yuuri's shoulders stiffened, his hands clenching around the rink's barrier. Yuri's fists clenched harder at his sides, holding back no anger in his voice. "No, it's not. He can't go back into competition, Victor, and it's final!"

"Why can't he?" Victor's voice raised slightly, almost unnoticeable, but Yuri could hear it and it set him off visibly, his shoulders shaking. "Why are you doing this, Yuri? I thought you didn’t want him here."

“I don’t! I still don’t! Shut up!” Yuri snarled, stepping between Yuuri and Victor before the older Russian made a move for Yuuri. Yuuri quietly called out for Yuri, the tone begging, pleading, for the boy not to let it get out of hand. Victor's gaze locked onto Yuri as the boy shouted out in frustration, stepping back from Victor, keeping close to Yuuri.

Tears twinkled at the edges of Yuri's eyes as he raised his head in frustration.

"I REFUSE TO SEE HIM CRACK HIS SKULL OPEN ON THE ICE AGAIN! THAT’S WHY!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many kudos, and bookmarks, and subscriptions and comments ! I would greatly appreciate if you continue doing that! Seeing all of your comments gives me so much motivation, and seeing your reactions makes me smile! Thank you so much for reading!


	8. A Matter of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxabLA7UQ9k) while you read this chapter!
> 
> Also holy crap it's an early update ??? I have so much I want to write and it just all came out in the past few days so enjoy !  
> EDIT: I added some details and leaned it up a bit!

Yuuri remembered the day he first met Victor Nikiforov in competition.

His first Grand Prix Final appearance had been hyped up to high hell by his home country, Japan, and many were looking at him to place on the podium. He was a surprise addition to the roster for the final, having secured second at Skate Canada, holding out for third at the Cup of China. He almost didn't make it, but finally after missing it last season, he had placed in the top six and moved on to the final. He was surrounded by big names, skaters he had grown up knowing and watching, and some he hadn't quite learned just yet.

Michele Crispino, representing Italy.

Lee Seung-gil, representing South Korea.

Christophe Giacometti, representing Switzerland.

Cao Bin, representing China.

and Victor Nikiforov, representing Russia.

He had met Victor the night before the final through Chris. Thanks to Chris's tendency to move rinks from time to time, chasing coaches he thought were better and chasing inspiration as if it were a dog off its leash. He and Chris had met several times on the ice, training together and discussing things off the ice as well. Chris was wild at times, and sometimes rather overwhelming, but Yuuri was able to adapt to him and learn to appreciate his interesting ways.

Victor was kind, and a gentlemen. However, when he met him, Victor was somewhat chilled, and overall closed off. He wasn't all around inviting, or constantly going for conversations, and kept mostly quiet during the hour they shared alongside Chris.

Chris would explain to him once they were back at the hotel that Victor was already in a competitive mindset. After all, Victor had much more on his shoulders then Yuuri did with the pressure from his home country, and coach.

Yuuri never thought too much on Victor Nikiforov. He could thank him for giving him the inspiration to put on skates, but otherwise, he simply saw him as a skater worthy of the praise he earned.

He never really got the chance to talk with Victor after that night. He never really got to know Victor personally.

He was, at the core of it all, another competitor.

Even when he stood on the podium of his second Grand Prix Final appearance, silver medal in hand, he barely spared a glance toward Victor, and Victor did the same. They were competitors, they were rivals, and there was simply no contact between them. Victor was entering the highest point in his career, and it started with the gold medal earned at that Grand Prix. Yuuri was stepping up to begin his highest point, getting a foot into the door and finally getting his chance to shine in the lights of the competitive world of figure skating. Much like his competitor, he didn't want to look at the other skaters. He was Japan's hope on the ice, and he had proved it after placing at his second Grand Prix Final.

He climbed. He had climbed for a year, earning gold at Nationals, bronze at the Four Continents, and climbing to get silver at Worlds. It was his best season, and he shined in the world of skating. Sponsorships, interviews, photoshoots. He was touted as the next rising star in competitive skating, compared to the likes of skater's past as well as their current legend, Victor Nikiforov. He didn't care much for that comparison, and he was sure Victor didn't care either for this new star soon to be dimmed by his staggering rise. He had earned gold where Yuuri won silver, and many suspected that they would have a rivalry on their hands with how they had a tendency to meet on the podium.

Yuuri didn't talk with Victor, and Victor didn't talk to him. They exchanged congratulations upon stepping off the podium, and once briefly discussed the media storm around them and how the next season would be worse then this one, but otherwise kept no contact.

He did his best to keep in touch with Chris, with a few other skaters from Japan, but he was in too deep.

Competition mattered more. He had to stay focus, chase away all the fear and anxiety until he only had to fight the nausea that set in whenever he could feel the pre and post competition blues sink in. He fought every instinct in him that told him that he couldn't perform better, that he could only perform worse, that the world's eyes were on his back and he could never escape its ever burning gaze. Anxiety threw off his balance, but through the silence, through the isolation in competition, he found stability. He found enough stability to make it through competition after competition, exhibition after exhibition.

He would keep climbing until he could touch the stars, and make history.

He climbed for a year, and reached his highest peak, and came crashing down and shattered his entire existence into irreparable pieces.

A private practice before Skate America. It had been arranged so they could discuss things concerning coach contracts and such in private before the public practice took place, but it ended up simply being an additional practice days before the official event. They took advantage of the ice and practiced. Yuuri shared the private ice with Phichit and Chris for a time, testing out their preferred jumps and experimenting with changes in each other's programs. Phichit wouldn't be joining him on the ice this year, having to stay back at least one more year.

Yuuri remembered practicing. He remembered spotting a head full of blond hair, and sparkling green eyes watching him in wonder and awe. He knew who they belonged to now, of course.

Yuri Plisetsky.

The up and coming Junior skater. He had so much potential.

Yuuri remembered him as one of his biggest fans.

He saw Yuri, he saw the blur of the world as he spun through his jump. He couldn't remember if it was a quad lutz or a quad flip. He remembered taking off, twirling through the air like he normally would for any jump. It was simply a warmup jump, practice for when he would do the same jump in front of thousands. It was simple for him now.

He remembered hearing something shatter, something cracking under his feet. He remembered pain shooting up through his leg as the ice approached in a blur. He could hear something impact on the ice as his world went black. Something burned on his head, but at the time it never made sense. Things were scrambled, his brain screamed for silence, and the world for him had been, for who knows how long, nothing but blackness and darkness.

Describing the accident as 'cracking his skull open on the ice' was more then accurate.

* * *

Everything froze in place at Yuri's defiant shout, a confession that rang through everything and everyone, determined to wound and shock without a care with the aftereffects. Yuri's voice still seemed the carry across the spacious rink as his settled into everyone, as hell seemed to writhe under the freezing shock Yuri's exclamation triggered.

Georgi looked unfocused, shocked out of his body. His mouth hung open slightly in surprise, and Yuuri could see that he was physically restraining himself from looking in his direction.

Mila was hiding her expression behind her hands, hiding her gaping mouth, but she couldn't hide the overwhelming shock, confusion, and sadness welling up in her eyes. Yuuri couldn't keep his eyes on her.

Victor looked ready to faint.

His new inspiration, the only person outside his extremely small and tight knit group of friends that was allowed in, looked ready to collapse to the ice in tears.

Yuuri prayed quietly as he shuffled back from Yuri that Victor wouldn't look at him, but his prayers were rejected and thrown back into his face. Shaking, glassy crystal blue met shuddering, foggy chocolate brown.

He couldn't.

He couldn't handle it, not again.

He couldn't handle that look again.

Their looks of sorrow, of devastation. That painfully deep look of sadness and loss. He had seen it again and again and again following his accident, and following his retirement announcement. That haunting look followed him, haunted him, mocked him in the shadows. It was a look that crushed everything warm in his chest, the happiness of his earlier practice with Yuri faded into dust. Yuri was looking at him now, regret written clearly on his features now that he had let slip the truth behind Yuuri's past. Yuuri stood a shaking step backward, Yuri's hand following him. Yuri was trying to reach for him again, but all Yuuri could see was the blackness stretching around the edges of his vision, his sight turning watery by stress tears building at the corners of his eyes.

He couldn't handle seeing their disappointment again.

He couldn't take seeing everything around him disappear.

"Katsuki..."

He can't take seeing their sorrow over his failure anymore.

Yuuri ran.

He turned his back and ran with all of his might, running out of the doors on the heals of his name leaving his friend's lips. The cry of his last name on Yuri's tongue, and the shout of his first name on Victor's lips. The cries for stop on Mila and Georgi's mouths. Even their voices projected the overwhelming emotion taking them all by the throats, and Yuuri didn't want to hear it again. He rushed down the hall, trying to stop himself from listening to them, to keep the tears slipping down his cheeks from burning him once again. He slammed the doors open, shocking the poor woman at the reception desk as he slid onto the ground thanks to his soaked through socks and scrambled to keep moving, running out of the front door into the cold air. He didn't look back, and ran from the rink, and ran from his newfound friends and family who now knew of his worst mistake.

Their looks wouldn't fade from the darkness behind his eyelids, unable to shake the look in their eyes as they let the shocking news soak into them.

Yuuri could still hear his voice in the wind, following him as he gasped for breath and pounded his feet against the pavement to get away.

He never wanted to see that expression pointed at him ever again.

> _"Yuuri!"_
> 
> _His eyes were overwhelmingly heavy, his throat stuffed with cotton. He was slow to even groan in discomfort as he tried to move, only to feel callous hands keep him from shuffling as he wished. He couldn't understand the words being spoken, his mind unable to pick them up. Slowly, a few words begun to make sense to his muddled mind. 'Awake' was one of them. Had he been asleep? The word 'Doctor' came next, along with a few smaller words like 'and' and 'coach'. Words still didn't seem clear to him yet. They were speaking English, he registered, but he couldn't understand it all. It hurt to think about it._
> 
> _A name was whispered in the back of his mind as he looked into the eyes of the boy hovering over him._
> 
> _Phichit._
> 
> _Phichit Chulanont._
> 
> _He was speaking again. Tears were falling quickly from Phichit's eyes, his hand wrapping around what Yuuri thought was his own hand. Phichit brought it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles of the hand as he sobbed. A long tube followed Yuuri's hand, and it looked to be taped to the inside of his arm._
> 
> _He felt nauseous, seeing the overwhelming sadness and relief in Phichit's eyes._
> 
> _He didn't want to see it. He wanted to go back to sleep._
> 
> _"Thank ... you're ... , Yuuri."_
> 
> _Yuuri wished he hadn't woken up at all._

The guilt burned a hole in his heart. He had disappointed the world, disappointed his coach and his friends, and he had completely disappointed the sport he loved so much. He had made one mistake, and everything had come crashing down. He dared let himself stretch, try to reach even farther then before. He got greedy, and he was brought back down by karma. His avarice was paid in blood, and tears, and the loss of everything he had dreamed of in his life.

He found himself slowing down, his full on sprint fading into a simple run, and from a run into a jog. Eventually, his feet stopped altogether, and he let the silence surround him.

His name was no longer being called. All that could be heard was the rumble of a car or two passing him by, and the far off chatter of the inner city.

Yuuri hadn't a clue as to where he was just yet, having blindly started running once he was outside of the rink. Who knows how long he had run for, or how far into the city he went into. His stamina was still there, even though he had to take long, deep breaths to keep air in his lungs. His eyes opened to the sight of heavy grey clouds over the city, and the far off rumble of thunder.

Yuuri let his eyes wander to the cityscape around him.

The eastern end of the Redlight district. He had run almost an entire mile blindly to one of the abandoned parts of the Redlight, where only the quiet slumber of the early morning workers filled the silence.

He had an out. A safe place where no one would find him just yet. Returning to the rink was impossible, and going to Yu-topia would put him at risk of being seen by Victor. He couldn't face him now, not with the scars of the past ripping open and festering in the new air they had to embrace. Pulling out his phone with gently shaking fingers, he called his second speed dial number, pressing his back to one of the building walls closest to him. The thunder overhead grew louder, and in the distance, he could hear the rain begin to hit the city streets.

_"Oh thank god, Yuuri! I got a call from Victor, are you-"_

"I'm okay." his weak reply said otherwise, and the frantic barb of Chris' voice softened.

_"Where are you? I'll come pick you up, don't worry about anything. Everyone's worried about you, what happened?"_

Yuuri bit down on his lip, urging himself not to cry again, not now. "That's why I called. I need to hide for a while."

_"Hide? Yuuri, mon amie, what's-"_

"And you can't tell anyone I'm with you. I need to disappear if only for a few days, **please** , Chris."

Silence met Yuuri's desperate plea, and for a moment Yuuri feared that Chris had hung up on him to call the others.

_"Alright, mon amie."_

Yuuri praised any god he could in that moment. He was thankful for Chris' ability to understand him, to know when he just needed to nod and say yes and let things happen. Yuuri was desperate to find relief from the burning and weight on his chest, from the pain rippling through him once again. Yuuri lamented quietly to himself that perhaps calling Phichit would have been better in the long run. He would have had to walk half way across the city to get to Phichit, however. Chris was closer, convenient, and thankfully wasn't one to mouth off about his private life too much. He knew to keep a secret.

"I-I'll explain when I get there. I'm at the east end. It won't take long for me to walk there."

 _"I'll be outside waiting."_ Yuuri found himself smiling, even though it was unstable and looked to be more of a painful frown trying to turn rightside up without success.

" _Merci_ , Chris. _Merci beaucoup_."

_"Je t'en prie. Are you sure you can make it on foot? The storm's coming in."_

Yuuri whimpered quietly, looking up to the sky, and taking in the sound of the thunder, and the quiet flash of lightning. The sound of rain began to hush over everything. Droplets were beginning to hit the ground as he began to run once again toward his temporary reprieve.

"I'm on my way. Just wait for me."

* * *

"I'm going to teach him a lesson!"

"Chris, he's still a kid. He was angry. He... was defending me. I can understand why he let it slip."

"Still! This was something that was never supposed to be known by others, for you and your family's sake. Now that three of the best skaters in the world know about it, everything could come crashing down! Plisetsky has done more damage then he probably knows!"

Yuuri adjusted the pillow under his hip, squirming to find the right place to lay on the couch he claimed. "I think he knows quite well what he's done."

Yuuri curled up tighter in the warm wool blanket Chris had provided him, fiddling quietly with the seam of the pajama pants Chris had also loaned him for the night. Yuuri didn't escape the rain in time, and by the time he was jogging up to Chris and his complex, he had almost been soaked through to the bone. Chris hoped the rain wouldn't put Yuuri at risk for a cold, and took any step possible to keep illness from knocking on Yuuri's door. Chris was working on finishing a fresh pot of tea, knowing that Yuuri preferred it over coffee and hot cocoa, especially when he was stressed. The sound of the rain echoed around the room, one of the windows cracked open to let the sound inside. It was calming to Yuuri despite everything.

"Tea's ready."

Yuuri looked up to Chris as he rounded the couch, setting the freshly brewed pot on the large coffee table and filling a cup for Yuuri. The aroma was gentle and aromatic, drawing Yuuri in as Chris adjusted the small strings within the pot. Chris was careful with pouring a cup for Yuuri, setting it on the small wooden table he had set up alongside Yuuri.

"I let it seep a little longer then normal. It should really bring out the flavor." Chris explained.

"It smells amazing. What is it?"

Chris bashfully blushed, drawing up his own cup of tea. "Hibiscus, rose hips, natural strawberry and... I think dark chocolate. Julian has a lot more skills then just pole dancing."

Yuuri carefully balanced the cup in his hands, smiling at Chris as he settled into the recliner beside him. "How is Julian, by the way?"

Chris sighed happily, looking up to his ceiling. "He's doing well. He should be back from his trip in a few days. I can't wait to see him again, it feels like we've been apart for years."

"It's only been two weeks." Yuuri chuckled, "I know you can hold out."

Chris whined, propping his head up with the heel of his hand. "Any longer and I'm going to go crazy without him here. I miss my Julian so much."

Yuuri shook his head, taking a long but slow sip of his tea, reveling in the gentle taste soothing him from the inside out, and the smell calming him from the outside in. He settled into his spot, making sure his blanket was wrapped around his shoulders properly, and stared into the reflection in his tea.

The rain had done away with the small bit of makeup he used at his hairline, revealing the semi-jagged scars that disappeared under his hair. It was the only visible physical evidence of the accident that ended his career, and that had almost ended his life. They marred a few inches of his hairline on the right side of his head, but much of it now was hidden by his regrown hair.

Doctors had to shave part of his head to get to the wound, and it had taken a long time to regrow, to look normal again and to hide the evidence. He was grateful his hair was a dark color.

> _"...we also had to ... hair to get to his ... should be able to grow back without .... "_
> 
> _Many words still didn't make sense to him as the doctor explained to his nervous coach, and distraught mother, about his condition. Yuuri kept his eyes anywhere but at them. Their expressions, their looks, were too much for him and his muddled mind. Many words didn't make sense still, and he was tired of hearing the language._
> 
> _A warm hand wrapped around his left hand, and his eyes came to a new person beside him._
> 
> _Another name popped into his head at the sight of her two-toned hair._
> 
> _Mari._
> 
> _Mari Katsuki._
> 
> _His sister._
> 
> _She didn't look at him like the others. There was sadness, it was obvious in the darkest parts of her eyes, but instead of the overflowing sorrow, there was a somewhat scathing look. It made him think of what his coach could look like if he messed up. A look that signaled a lecture._
> 
> _No lecture came._
> 
> _"You're an idiot."_
> 
> _She didn't speak to him in English. The gentle, soothing sound of Japanese in his ears made him sigh in relief, closing his eyes as he let his sister speak._
> 
> _"If you ever do that again, I'm coming after you. I won't wait for Mom and Dad. I won't hesitate."_
> 
> _Yuuri nodded. He didn't care about the scolding, or how it should make him feel. Hearing someone not cry over him was a relief beyond words. Hearing anything that wasn't a sorrowful thank you to the sky, or a mention of his injuries, made him feel better. He was already tired of hearing condolences, of hearing people thank whatever deity they worshiped for Yuuri's return to the world. He was sick of hearing all these words and seeing all of these painful emotions pointed toward him. It made him feel almost worse, knowing that they worried so much and hurt themselves so much over him._
> 
> _His sister had stopped speaking, he realized. His eyes opened once again, turning his head slowly to look at her._
> 
> _"Do you want some time to yourself?"_
> 
> _If he could shake his head in disagreement, he would. Instead, he gently squeezed the hand still holding his own._
> 
> _"K-Keep... talking."_
> 
> _His voice was rough, worn by lack of use. His throat wasn't parched at all, having gotten water a little bit ago to help clear his throat. He simply had to regain his true voice through use, even though it was a challenge to speak normally to others. His native tongue was much easier. He knew he would have to relearn English, but for now all he wanted was to relax to the sound of his native language guiding him forward._
> 
> _"Keep talking... like you are. H-Hearing English... hurts."_
> 
> _Mari smiled._
> 
> _Yuuri smiled back._
> 
> _"Alright. Let me tell you just how much trouble you've caused, little brother."_

The sound of the rain drew him back to reality, still staring into the surface of his tea. He took another sip, turning his eyes to the window opened that let in the sound of the storm. As angry as it should have sounded, it was a welcoming, sobering sound of rain hitting pavement. It helped him find peace so he could reassemble the scrambled pieces within him from earlier.

He had to get it together.

He had to remember that it was only a matter of time before the truth broke free.

He simply wished that he could have told Victor on his own terms instead of watching his new friend, his old rival, break in front of him at the revelation. It made everything worse knowing now that the news would do so much damage to those around him. He couldn't shake the image of Victor's heartbreaking look as the news seeped into his mind. Yuuri couldn't imagine the possible amount of scenarios running through the skater's head at the knowledge that Yuuri had taken a head injury. Injuries in skating weren't rare, but when they happened, many were disastrous, and ended careers instantly. Hurting your legs on the ice was always the fear, but some didn't realize what would happen if you spun too far, or if you never land on your feet.

Yuuri could only imagine what Victor had realized back at the rink.

The tea at his lips was losing its welcoming flavor.

"How am I going to face him again, Chris?"

"Victor?" Chris inquired quietly, setting his now finished cup of tea aside.

How long had Yuuri spent remembering and reminiscing? How long had he ignored Chris? He set his cup down with a sigh, wringing his hands into the blanket.

"How am I going to face any of them? They're going to ask questions. They'll want to know."

"We are, unfortunately, a curious species." Chris lamented, looking off to the rain outside, "If you don't want to explain, you don't have to, Yuuri."

"That'll just make it worse. They'll just keep looking at me with that same expression and..."

Yuuri stared down at his hands, fighting the guilt already welling up in him. The guilt, the fear, the low boiling anger, and the despair. He didn't want to face the music of this scenario, and he knew he was nowhere ready for it. He could only hope that it would blow over in time, and that he would be given some air before he would eventually have to dive back in.

He knew it was inevitable.

It didn't frighten him any less.

> _" What... did you just say?"_
> 
> _Everyone's eyes were on his as the words registered to him. He stared up at the doctor close to him, his hands shaking as they gripped the sheets over his body and the hand Mari offered. It didn't take long for his body to begin shaking as the reality of the world around him hit harder then the ice he had crashed upon._
> 
> _"What do you mean? What do you mean?! Someone please tell me!"_
> 
> _Mari was translating for him, speaking in a voice he couldn't hear. She was translating his panicked words into a language the doctor could understand. The aged man turned to Yuuri was that same pitiful expression, a regretful one. He whimpered before the man spoke, clutching his chest as his heart started to pound painfully. His family, his mother and father, all looked at him with that same expression, and it made him feel nauseous. He was so sick and tired of that expression, and the pain it brought him. It doubled as the doctor spoke again._
> 
> _"I'm ... ... Mr. Katsuki but ... said is .... You've been ... ... for a ..."_
> 
> _Yuuri shook his head angrily, not understanding words again. He whimpered once again, growling in frustration at his own mind. English was difficult to understand, and it hurt listening to it. Everything hurt and he wanted to go back to sleep and escape the pain and misery. Mari squeezed his hand, arguing suddenly with the doctor. His mother stepped forward, trying to explain something, her eyes solely on him._
> 
> _He covered his ears. He needed to block out the sound of the words being spoken, he needed the pain in his head to stop._
> 
> _"Get out."_
> 
> _Mari turned to him as he hissed the words, drawing his family's eyes as the room silenced._
> 
> _"Get out!"_
> 
> _"Yuuri..." his mother's voice didn't help. Yuuri lifted his face to reveal the frustration on his features, and the tears falling in large rivers down his cheeks._
> 
> _"Get out! Just get out! It hurts to hear all of you speak!"_

"Can I sleep here, Chris?"

Chris almost looked offended that Yuuri would even ask for such a thing. "Of course. You don't need to ask. I have the guest bedroom if you'd like."

Yuuri looked out the window once again. Slowly, Yuuri stood, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and made a move for the sliding glass doors of Chris' balcony. He stared out into the rain-soaked city, letting the lights of the night twinkle just beyond the glass. His hand rested on it, wondering what would await him now that the stage below his feet had shattered, and he was crashing down once again.

"I'll take the couch. I want to hear the rain."

Chris turned to watch him, his smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Yuuri slowly opened the sliding glass door, the sound of the storm washing over them.

"Alright. If you need anything, Yuuri, don't hesitate to ask."

Yuuri hid his smile, turning his head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of Chris standing up, stretching his limbs with a low groan.

"Can I... have more tea?"


	9. A Breather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapter everyone. I kept getting hung up on the next part and I just couldn't churn out what I normally do. I promise though, the next chapter will have another stripping routine by Eros! Also thank you all for your comments and everything, keep it up it gives me motivation!

"Yuuri!"

Yuuri had to pause as he reached up to pull himself up, squeezing his thighs to secure himself around the pole he practiced on. He didn't make a move to come down, pushing his hair out of his face as he tried to look at who called his name. Sweat dripped down his neck as he worked his body and practiced his more difficult routines. He could vaguely hear the music he had put on over his panting as he finally paused in his workout. 

Sara stared up with a hand on her hip, concern in her eyes. She had a towel draped over one shoulder and a water bottle in her right hand. She was dressed to practice, wearing a tight black sports bra and black and red striped training shorts that stretched down her thighs. Yuuri had known that she practiced pole dancing on the sly and toyed with the idea of joining them on the stage. He remembered that his brother, who still skated unlike himself, wasn't all keen on the idea. He had seen Michele from time to time backstage, VIP badge hanging around his neck as he talked with Sara.

"Come down."

"I'm still practicing."

Sara glared at him, obviously meaning not to budge. "Come down now, Yuuri."

Yuuri stood his ground. He crossed his ankles, and made sure his thighs were tightly wrapped around the pole. He was anchored around the pole, but he had to make sure.  

"I need to practice. So I'm practicing."

Sara shook her head, sighing softly. "You've been doing nothing but practicing and choreographing and instructing."

"Isn't that good?"

"Not when you're refusing to perform yourself. You can't keep avoiding going on stage, Yuuri."

Yuuri slowly blinked, his hands taking hold of the practice pole as he let a sigh out. He wasn't going to deny that he had been avoiding performing despite his demand, claiming he needed more time to practice, to iron out new routines and find new music to get back out there as Eros. Of course, it was an elaborate lie to avoid seeing Victor who he had no doubt had been coming to the Hot Springs in search of him, in search of relief. He also wouldn't lie to himself that he was feeling guilty for avoiding Victor, and the other Russians like the plague. It's been almost a week since Yuri had broken the news of his injury that ultimately ended his career, and he had no contact yet with any of the Russians. Chris claims that Yuri had been trying to contact him, but Yuuri couldn't really believe it.

No news had come of Victor's whereabouts as of yet.

Mila had apparently sought out Phichit for information on him. Luckily, Phichit wasn't going to budge until he was comfortable with approaching them again.

Yuuri knew he had to step up, to face the truth, but it was a horrific thing to see again. He loathed look in the mirrors around him anymore, stressed out by his own reflection as his anxiety had him overeating again. He didn't want to see the skater he used to be, or the stick thin survivor still recovering in the hospital. He couldn't handle the sights of the past, and every time he dared looked, he wished he could slam his fist into the reflection and break it into pieces.

Much like he had to the life he could have had if he hadn't flown too high.

"Does it have to do something with Victor?"

Yuuri startled, losing his focus. His thighs loosened, and he came sliding down. He collected himself in time to hold on and keep himself off the ground, but he had cut it close. He panted for a moment before letting himself slowly drop to the mats below, resting his forehead on the cool pole as the tune of his song continued to play on loop.

"Something happened... and I'm scared of approaching him again." Yuuri admitted quietly, murmuring softly under his breath as Sara draped her towel over his head, letting him wipe the sweat off his face and neck.

"Did he hurt you?"

Yuuri shook his head, leaning back from the practice pole. He adjusted the towel so it hung over his shoulders, and tugged for a moment at his thin tank top, lifting it off his sweat-soaked skin. The brief moment of coolness sent a small shiver through his spine.

"No. I think I hurt him... but I'm scared of what he'll do."

"Avoiding him will make it worse," Sara gently scolded, taking a spot next to Yuuri, "Go see him. He's spent the last few nights getting drunk with JJ because you weren't performing. He's looked miserable."

"He shouldn't be getting drunk." Yuuri mumbled, "What is he thinking?"

"He's thinking about you." Sara bluntly replied, gently elbowing him, "I've been hearing through my brother that rumors are going around that Victor's been skipping practices, or avoiding doing anything concrete in his practices."

Yuuri bitterly laughed, hanging his head and hiding his face with his bangs. That one hurt, knowing that he was now ruining Victor's practices. He was the reason behind Victor's recent binge at the bars, his refusal to practice, his botched practices. He rested his head on his knees, taking slow, deep breaths and tried to keep control before he threw himself into another anxiety attack from the guilt. He knew it would have consequences, abandoning work and visiting the rink. He simply hadn't figured it would hurt everyone so much. He had a terrifying accident on the ice that cut his career short, so what? It was in the past. It would stay there, and it wouldn't be mentioned.

Perhaps going to that rink in search of Victor after that first night was a mistake.

None of this would have happened if he had simply killed his interest as he should have. If he had listened to his thoughts instead of his pathetic heart.

"Yuuri, you in here?"

He didn't look up as the door to the studio opened, and instead Sara answered in his stead.

"JJ. He's here, he's taking a break. What's wrong?"

"He's got someone looking for him. I've never seen him before though, so we've kind of got him wrestled into the break room."

"Did he give a name?" Yuuri asked, dread beginning to grow in his chest.

"He kept screaming your name and demanded to see you. I don't know, maybe his name is Yuuri too. The only thing I really do know is he's small and obnoxious and easily upset by my teasing."

Yuuri grimly smiled, thankful he could hide it underneath his towel as he leaned forward to towel off the back of his neck. He had two guesses as to who it was looking for him, and it seems he was correct.

"I know him."

Yuuri stretched slowly, keeping hold of Sara and JJ's eyes as he stood up, adjusting his shirt before addressing them. "He can come in."

Yuuri could feel Sara's eyes on him, watching as he slowly moved for his and abandoned water. Thankfully, she seemed to see what needed to be done, and disappeared back into the club with JJ, leaving him the entire studio. The silence chilled him, curdling whatever guilt and pain had built up since his accident had been revealed.

And now he would have to face Yuri. He had a few minutes at most until he had to see him again.

He quietly sat once again, uncapping his water and staring at his warbling reflection.

Four years since the accident. Three years since retirement. He thought he had finally gotten away from that reflection, the hauntings of the past on the ice. He had wanted to get away, to run away and hide, and never see it again. It was a bitter reminder of a life lost, a time in his life he had wasted in a futile effort to be something, to show the world he was there. The blood on the ice, and the blackness that swallowed him whole, were his constant reminders that things would never he okay again.

The door quietly opened, and Yuuri's eyes rose to the sight of Yuri entering in silence, closing the door behind him with a firm hand. The blond skater stands there for a moment without a word spoken, simply looking at Yuuri before his eyes broke their cold gaze and softened. Yuuri watched him carefully before he stood up, smiling crookedly as Yuri looked to his feet.

As Yuuri opened his mouth to ask why Yuri was here, the skater answered for him.

"Before you say anything, or ask anything... I came here to... apologize. For what I did."

Yuuri was quiet, and gestured Yuri closer, adjusting his shirt for a moment as Yuri reluctantly came forward, sighing he approached him. The older offered a hand to him, perhaps wondering if Yuri would simply say his apologizes and move on. Instead, as quick as lightning, Yuri took Yuuri's hand and pulled him to him. Yuuri exclaimed something in fear as he was pulled, finding himself being clung to by the younger boy, staring down at Yuri's face pressed into his chest.

"Yu...ri?"

"I'm sorry."

Yuuri's expression relaxed as Yuri's arms tightened around him, adjusting his footing for a moment before leaning his head back just a tad. Yuuri couldn't see his expression, but he could hear his voice growing thick.

"I'm sorry for blurting it out. That fucking moron wanted to drag you back to the ice, and... and I panicked. He's always gotten what he wanted, and I didn't want to see you hurt again. I couldn't think of anything else to get him to stop pushing, so I... I'm sorry. I just..."

Yuri buried his head back into Yuuri's chest, squeezing him into a semi-awkward position, but Yuuri found himself disregarding it. His  right hand gently patted Yuri's head as the younger buried his face deeper, trying to hide it. Yuuri knew after running to Chris that Yuri had simply meant to protect him, to deny Victor any chance to pull him back on the ice and into competition. He knew Yuri had good intentions, and good motives, for stepping up in such a way.

"It's okay, Yuri. I knew you were just looking out for me."

"I wasn't going to see you get hurt again." Yuri's replied was muffled, but the shaking in his voice carried the weight of his words for him, "I couldn't let you do that again."

It had been years since he had seen Yuri last, and to know now that despite the separation, despite Yuri's anger after learning that he would retire, despite it all, this once small rising skating child would care so much for him hit home and beyond. A skater going on soon to be sixteen years old, beginning his senior skating career, still held a torch for him; a failed skater who lost his chances of ever continuing his career to an accident that could have been prevented. Yuuri threaded his fingers through Yuri's hair, gently encouraging the younger boy to lean into him if he so wished.

"Thank you for looking out for me, Yuri. It means the world to me to know you care for me after all this time."

He led Yuri to the ground slowly, and as he sat there on the floor of the practice room, clutching the next rising star in skating to his chest, he swore he could hear Yuri sniffle into his shirt.


	10. Everything Left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry again for the kind of short chapter. I'm struggling to pump out content like normal, but with this chapter, most things should finally be ready to get going! I know I promised an Eros routine, but... well I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and don't forget to comment at the end if you could please!

 

Yuri left shortly after, ensuring that Yuuri would be alright now that the air between them had cleared and all was well. It took some convincing, but Yuri convinced Yuuri to perform tomorrow night so he could clear the air with Victor. Yuri claimed he was sick and tired of dealing with either a hungover Victor moping around the rink, or one that simply wouldn't do anything and just watch everyone skate with a forlorn look as if he wished he could continue doing it.

Yuuri knew he had hurt everyone enough. Yuri and he made up, or just finally talked about what happened and allowed everything into the open. His next task was to finally confront, or talk, to Victor about what was said, and try to patch things up. He would have to do the same thing with Georgi and Mila eventually as well.

Yuuri paused on top of the small stage built into the studio, taking hold of the pole next to him. Slowly, he rose onto his toes, groaning as he returned to the flat face of his feet. He couldn't do it anymore without the proper shoes, having never truly stuck around long enough with ballet to perfect it that far. He did remember that he always kept a pair of ballet flats just in case, just to be sure.

He padded over to his idle phone, flipped through his messages, a few apps including Instagram, and finally opened up his music library. Hooking his phone up to the small portable speakers with an aux cable, he set his phone to play his playlist from his skating days; some he performed to, and some he had not.

He never had the heart to delete in. He had simply renamed the playlist to avoid remembering the past.

Perhaps now wouldn't be so hard to remember. As the first few beats of his first song began to play, he went for his duffel bag, and dug out his somewhat worn pair of ballet flats with a smile. It had been some time, and they were desperate for a replacement, but for now they would allow him to do as he wished. He sat upon the stage, listening to the music play quietly, slipping his familiar ballet flats on.

Just one more practice. Something freeform, flowing... something to bring his shattered pieces together for the first time. He moved to the small panel in the wall, dimming the lights down, switching the color lighting to give him some atmosphere, and mounted the stage.

Just him, his music of choice, and years upon years of practice dancing.

He would let everything flow free tonight.

* * *

 

"Victor! You're here!"

Victor looked up from his feet as he entered Yutopia once again, finding the shocked expression of Sara approach him as he began his beeline for the Hot Springs, more specifically the bar where he knew JJ would be with a bottle of either Russian vodka or something equally strong as promised.

"Sara."

The Italian woman shook her head and smile, stopping Victor's move to the bar. "I'm surprised you're here. I thought you had late practice."

"I did. But... I was hoping I could catch Yuuri if he's here at all."

Victor knew the pain was visible in his face, the exhaustion in her features. The week of absolute isolation and silence from Yuuri was dragging him through the mud, especially after realizing everything he had when he rediscovered Yuuri, remembered everything that had been background noise in the most turbulent time in his career. Sara looked off to the side briefly before turning ninety degrees, waving at him to follow her.

"He's here. I'll show you."

His mood perked up immediately, following after Sara like an obedient dog missing its master. They disappeared through a door hidden by some of the decorations across the club, into dimly lit hallways filled with props and pieces of stages, a few people lingering about as they awaited their next job. Sara led them in silence, turning around corners until Victor could begin to hear music.

"He's in here," Sara said softly, pointing to a door labeled 'Studio', "He's been practicing non stop for a while. He probably still is. Go in quietly."

"Sara," his voice was full of relief, looking at her before she turned the corner again with a smile, "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure. Now go, go, before I kick you out."

Victor chuckled quietly, waving Sara down the hall before slowly pushing open the door. The room was dimmed, the lights in a low red glow, highlighting the dark wood he walked along and the neon signs on the walls. He walked down the small hallway, and the room opened up to his right, revealing a spotless wooden floor, several stripper poles stretchign from the ceiling to the floor. A small elevated platform that he was sure acted as a stage was erected up in the middle of some of the poles.

Upon the stage was Yuuri, dressed in tight black shorts and tank top, and worn off white ballet flats.

Victor kept to the shadows, afraid that if he dared spook Yuuri that he would lose him immediately and kicked out. He had to be careful, oh so careful. He didn't want to frighten Yuuri, or risk the chance of making him hate him. He would have to be sneaky, and perhaps slightly creepy, to get another chance like this again. He didn't want to be in this position, but it was his best shot. So, he kept quiet in the shadows of the dance studio, watching as Yuuri flipped through his phone looking for something. Most likely music, if Victor guessed. He stilled as Yuuri turned from the setup and settled on the main floor.

Victor watches on like a specter, invisible to the world around him. He watches with impossibly wide eyes as the song Yuuri had chosen [begins to play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOkF7uTIhxM), somber violin cords with the underlying piano notes leading the song into the first lyrics. It was a song Victor recognized just barely. The melody was familiar, something perhaps he had listened to while choosing melodies and songs for routines past. As the song rolls through its first chorus, Yuuri's steps become slow and delicate, leaping up into the air, and twirling into the landing. His hands posture and pose as if he were gliding along the ice, his feet sliding gently across the solid wooden floor, careful and careless at once.

He couldn't tell if Yuuri was attempting a ballet routine, a dance routine, a skating routine, or a stripping routine. It was a beautiful hybrid of all these styles, so unique and different from one another and yet Yuuri effortlessly blended them together as he danced without a care, listening perhaps to his heart as he let his body move to the beat, going up onto his toes, showing off his flexibility in his next leap.

It was innocent, but sensual. It was intoxicating and sobering all at once. It was as if Yuuri was taking the music playing, and changing it, remixing it, into something of his own. A tale of love and lost, of regret and destruction. A rising from the ashes, finding peace and finding chaos among the rubble. Healing from the destruction only to rip open the wounds, and look upon the darkness that had chased him.

His story. Yuuri's deepest, darkest tale. His story after his career destroying accident.

Yuuri's hands roll down his body, as he twists and turns, pulling his leg up into an aerial split, toes pointed. A principal _danseur_ on his lonely stage, left with nothing but the lights above him, and the sound of his feet hitting the wooden floor. His legs slowly descends, pointed toe resting on the ground before it flattened out, his breath slightly heavy as he paused in his steps.

Yuuri smiles, looking to one of the mirrors, and begins again. He places his hand on his chest, turning his head to the left, looking off with a forlorn look. A starting position.

A skating routine didn't translate exactly into dance, but Yuuri found a way to do it without putting on a pair of skates, or changing the wood below to ice. He let his feet glide along the wood, simulating the motion of moving around the rink. Arms outstretched, moving along the invisible Ina Bauer as he swung his leg around, moving in a slow spin until he lost the momentum. Toes pointed, he returned to the ballet-dance steps, blending a mixing forms of dance and art that normally would never work together so well.

Victor was absolutely memorized. 

As the music slowly rose to its crescendo, and left the room in silence, Yuuri posed with his hands in front of him. Yuuri smiled warmly at him, and Victor finally realized how the routine had ended.

Yuuri's hands were stretched out to him.

"How long were you standing there?" Yuuri asked gently, his voice just above a whisper.

Victor stepped out of the shadows of the dance studio, sheepishly keeping his face from view as he stood in the dimmed lights, remembering and replaying every moment of the dance Yuuri had performed.

"Since you started dancing."

Yuuri gave a gentle sigh, picking at the back of his right slipper. "Did Sara tell you where I was?"

Victor shook his head, gaze rising up still not meeting Yuuri's eyes.

"I asked her, instead of asking the bottom of a shot glass."

"That's much better." Yuuri noted, stepping down from the stage to stand before Victor, "You don't belong at the bottom of a glass."

Victor finally met Yuuri's gentle gaze, smiling briefly before letting it slip off. Yuuri nervously looked to the side, his lips down turning for a moment before he gave another breath, looking up at Victor's eyes. He could see the horror in them, from before. He could see the sorrow in knowing that Yuuri had been hurt so badly. He could see fear, and devastation.

He could see worry, worry and fascination.

"I'm sorry, Victor."

Victor lowered his eyes for a moment, shaking his head and meeting Yuuri's eyes once more. "It's okay."

Yuuri's words were slow, trying to say them without stumbling. "It wasn't. I lied to you. I left you in the dark. I didn't trust you, and I'm sorry."

Victor hummed quietly, placing a hand on one of Yuuri's shoulders. The younger man looked up at him curiously as a hundred and one emotions flitted around Victor's expression. The Russian squeezed Yuuri's shoulder briefly before dropping down his arm, trailing along the inside slowly until his fingers found his palm, and lifted away.

"I can't be mad at you, Yuuri. I understand why you needed time to yourself. Why you ran. It's okay."

Yuuri found the will to smile slightly. His index finger wrapped around one of Victor's fingers, pulling his hand back toward his own. 

"I'm sorry for forgetting you, Yuuri."

Yuuri shook his head. "I can understand why. There's no need to apologize. I forgot about you too."

Victor's smile grew warmer. "It's been four years. Do you want to... catch up over a coffee, or something?"

Yuuri took a moment to realize what Victor was asking. Their relationship, as odd as it was, had been built on a single moment. A meeting after Yuuri-as-Eros had almost kissed him in his dressing room. A moment Yuuri thought would never spark a single thing. From there, to the ice rink, and back and forth, Victor had helped him as a sort of coach, and as his biggest fan onstage. There were so many possible meanings behind his words, so many that made his stomach churn, and his mind go off on so many scenarios.

He knew the true reason behind it.

It had been four years since Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov had met on the ice.

They had much to discuss after so long, after so many changes.

It had been a week since they rediscovered that the other existed again.

"I would like that."


	11. Ode to the Ice

The coffee shop closest to Yutopia was small, quaint and a tad overpriced but it was impressive for a small mom and pop shop against the likes of Starbucks, which the inner city was polluted with. Yuuri wasn't normally one for coffee or heavy amounts of caffeine, his drink of choice being a flavored frappuccino without coffee. Victor went a similar route, ordering a simple caramel cappuccino with decaf instead of straight caffeine. The silver haired skater also snuck in two small pastries into the purchase so they could balance their drinks, and while Yuuri was worried about his weight and keeping his figure, he knew he could let it slide at least with Victor this one time. 

With drinks in hand, food in small bags, and the small coffee shop cafe to themselves, they took a small corner pocket booth, hidden from view. Yuuri glanced nervously at Victor as he pulled the lid of his drink off, blowing at the top gently as if to dispel the heat, before replacing the lid and taking a tentative sip. Striking blue caught his nervous glance, a soft smile stretching across Victor's lips before he set his cup down.

"You look nervous."

Yuuri chuckled quietly, taping the side of his cool drink as he took a sip. "I am, a bit."

"Why? You're rather confident on stage as Eros. What's so different about Yuuri Katsuki?" Victor took another small sip of his drink, pulling at the corner of his pastry and popping it into his mouth.

Yuuri sighed, rolling his straw between two fingers before letting it go. His eyes focused on the emblem on his bag for his pastry.

"Eros didn't exist until he showed up two years ago. All he knows about you is that you're... y-you're gorgeous and obviously attracted to him, and that you're interesting and intriguing."

He lifted his eyes to meet Victor's, spying the soft but almost invisible red on his cheeks.

"I knew you ever since I was little. You were the reason I started skating, you were the reason I fought so hard to rise up to where I was. You were an almost rival. something I wanted to match up to and beat eventually. That was until... well, Yuri explained it rather well."

Victor's expression fell slightly, looking worriedly at Yuuri before taping a finger against his drink. "Until you cracked your head open on the ice. He never explained exactly what happened. I'm surprised I didn't hear anything about that."

"It was kept quiet for a reason. The ISU had been under hot water for injuries, and my accident happened at the worst time. They did allow reporter to say that I had to withdraw from competition for health reasons, but never said I was injured."

"Isn't that... illegal, or something?"

Yuuri shrugged, unsure of the laws around such a thing. "I'm not sure. They wanted it to be quiet though, and my coach agreed. The only people who were allowed to know about it were my doctors, my former coach, and the four people who ended up witnessing or knowing about it."

"Four?"

Victor's expression was curious, still mixed with worry. Yuuri took a longer sip of his drink, breaking off a piece of his pastry and taking his time chewing and swallowing.

"Chris, Phichit, and Yuri all were at the rink when it happened."

Victor leaned in closer. "And the fourth?"

"...Coach Yakov. He had to weather the storm surrounding Yuri and had to know. He, like the rest of us, was sworn to secrecy to avoid trouble. The silence helped me cope with what had happened."

Victor's eyes fell to his coffee, his mouth pressed into a semi-grim line. "I see. What exactly happened, if you don't mind me asking? Yuri's phrase doesn't leave much to the imagination, but it also is still ambiguous enough to confuse me."

Yuuri tapped his fingers against his cup in a random rhythm. Explaining it was difficult, seeing as no matter how he did it, it would be a painful affair, but he knew after it was dropped on Victor like a bag of bricks, and he was given the silent treatment, he owed him something to explain it. He took a deep breath, pausing before looking up at Victor who looked to him in understanding.

"If you don't want to explain it, that's alright. It's obvious now why you don't like to talk about it."

Yuuri shook his head, looking Victor in the eyes. "It's alright. I won't go in depth with all the details, but I can explain it a little better."

"Go ahead." Victor took another sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on Yuuri to ensure that the younger was comfortable with spilling the information he had kept locked up for years.

"I was practicing like normal, testing my jumps and step sequences. It was just a private practice at my home rink with Phichit, and Chris. Yakov apparently had heard that we were having a private practice and came with a skater or two of his. Yuri had tagged along and snuck in to watch me. I went for a jump like normal, I could remember seeing Yuri watching from just outside of the rink. It was a perfect jump, until I landed.

"When I hit the ice, the blade of my skate either shattered or cracked. Even after all this time, I don't know which. Either way, the blade went, and my leg crumbled under my weight. I was still going rather fast, so gravity took me to the ice head first."

Victor involuntarily winced, Yuuri could tell, his fingers wrapping tighter around his cup. Yuuri took the moment to shove another fair-sized piece of pastry into his mouth, trying to ignore the pain echoing through him, phantom throbbing hitting his skull. He still, to this day, could remember the ringing in his ears as we drift any in darkness and feeling the pounding pain in his head even though he had no clue at the time why it all hurt.

“I didn’t even realize that I had hit my head when it all happened. I just remember landing, hearing something crack, and blurs of white and blue before it all went black.” Yuuri added quietly, another sip of his drink taken as he waited for the information to settle. A glance up at Victor yielded the skater’s pained expression.

Yuuri reached up to his forehead, drawing with the movement Victor’s eyes, and touched his hairline, pushing some of his bangs out of the way to show off the somewhat faded scar just barely visible through his hair. Much of the scar from the fall was hidden under his hair now, and he was appreciative of that fact. It had taken a year for it to grow back and hide it.

“So, that happened four years ago, before Skate America.” Victor stated, earning a nod from Yuuri.

“You remember?”

“I kind of remember hearing that you had to drop out. I, admittedly, didn’t think too much of it because I was so engrossed in preparing for my own Grand Prix qualifier.”

“It’s okay, Victor,” Yuuri replies, nodding in understanding, “You were entering your winning stride. It’s understandable that I didn’t mean much to you. We were competitors, not friends.”

Victor looked off for a moment, absently drinking his decaf before giving an almost nervous smile, perhaps one with a touch of apprehension, and looking at Yuuri again.

“I’d like to be friends, if that’s okay.”

“That’s more than okay!” Yuuri hadn’t meant to exclaim the words so enthusiastically but he couldn’t hold himself back. Victor chuckled into the side of his hand as Yuuri felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"I see..."

Yuuri rubbed the back of his head, trying to dispel the burn of his cheeks. He looked off to the side, looking out of the window for a moment.

"A new start, then, Yuuri. Not as competitors."

"Friends?" Yuuri prompted, noticing then that Victor's eyes were bright, warm and welcoming.

"Maybe more...?"

The idea brought a new rush of blood through his cheeks. The idea... wasn't that far fetched. Their first meeting in Yutopia had almost consisted of a strip tease, and a kiss at the end of the night. There was no doubt that something, perhaps, could grow from the new seeds they would plant. Victor reached out to Yuuri, placing his hand over top the hand holding his cup. Yuuri stared at it for a while, curious at the warmth he felt through the back of his hand. He looked up once again to meet Victor's eyes, eyes widening at the sight of Victor's gentle and accepting smile. His moment of surprise faded as he gave his own smile back.

"Maybe."

Victor softly chuckled. "It's not a no."

"You're right," Yuuri softly replied, "it's not a no."


	12. The Bubble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer then I expected, and I'm so sorry for the late upload! I honestly hadn't expected the chapter to turn out like this, but it became this... weird character study for this AU's Yuuri in a sense, looking a little deeper into his issues. I hope this important filler was worth the wait!
> 
> Don't forget to comment, it helps me write better, faster, and helps me write more! Love you all!

Yuuri stared at his phone screen as he walked toward home, trying to figure out clearly how all of this had led up to this moment.

'Victor ~❤' the contact name read. Below it was Victor Nikiforov's phone number, email, and address. He even had begged Yuri for his SNS information, even though he rarely used them himself besides the occasional lurking and checking up on Phichit and the others. A flip to another app, his Twitter, and Victor was plastered on his entire feed. Admittedly, it brought a smile to his face as he walked, pausing to look up as he waited with a small crowd to cross the street.

A few days had passed since their coffee date, and Victor had to leave the city for a brief trip home to prepare for the coming arrival of the GP Series announcements. He even had a tab open to the page just waiting to see who qualified this year for the Grand Prix. Something he hadn't done since his competitive career. Of course, visiting such a site, thinking about such things again, it brought pain.

But it also brought joy. Yuri would most likely be joining this year's crop of senior skaters in his debut, and he would absolutely cheer him on now that he had made it to the top. Most likely Chris and Phichit would make the cut as well, and he would do more this year to cheer them on. He hadn't done anything to support them during his recovery and even after it, wanting nothing of skating. He had wished them luck, but never mentioned anything of their events. As they were allowed to cross, his phone chirped with a new notification. He had been tagged for something on Instagram? He continued walking as he pulled up his instafeed, and the first post shown was astonishing. It was an image posted by Victor, proudly showing him standing alongside Georgi, Mila, Yuri, Anya, and Coach Yakov. Each wore their medal of highest honor, ending up with every single person wearing with pride a gold medal. Yakov was smiling as he was flanked by his skating team, proudly looking to Yuri in the photo.

The caption?

_'The proud Russian skating family! see you soon @kats-yuuri #russianskatingfamily #lookatyakovsmile #cominghomesoon'_

"He couldn't have just texted me instead of tagging me?" Yuuri lamented to himself, shaking his head before liking it, and commenting to it, glancing at the amount of comments in disbelief.

_'You could have texted me. Can't wait to see you again, Victor.'_

It took barely a minute before his phone was vibrating near constantly as comments came flowing in from his own on the picture. He pocketed it and hoped all the notifications wouldn't kill his battery by the time he got to his apartment. He absently twirled his keys around on a finger as he roudned a corner, taking a moment to look at his notifications and breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed for now the shock died down. He plugged in his headphones, and flipped on his dancing routine playlist, needing to focus on his coming routine so he could get the right cues from the music. Unconsciously, his hips moved a little stronger with each stride, channeling the energy he would need to stomp out on stage at Yutopia, earning every set of alcohol-hazed eyes with the glorious stretch of his legs, the sway of his hips, and the sway of his ass. He knew his strengths, and when he focused in on them, they were deadly weapons he wielded as a master.

He chuckled quietly, opening his eyes as he slowed his increasing gait, stopping his exaggerated steps, and focused on listening to the song, the bass in the background, the sounds of the instrumental that would lead him more then the lyrics, though those were important as well.

Yuuri was ready for tonight, he knew that well, but he couldn't help but worry slightly. He had to perform without Victor front and center while he was abroad, and it had always put on a bit of an edge. He had gotten so used to see Victor's flustered cheeks and hungry eyes staring him down as he danced and performed, watching his thirsty expression turn to pure surprise as Yuuri turned the tables around and focused in on him, never failing to get him to gasp under his breath, taking completely by his stunning sexual prowess as Eros.

Glancing up, he took the next right up a small collection of stairs to his building, pulling open the door and heading for the large staircase. He checked his phone again, opening it to the sight of text messages from Victor. The messages brought his smile back, larger then ever. Truly, ever since they decided to connect deeper then they had been years ago, deeper then their odd tango around one another in Yutopia, things were so... natural and bright. Victor was excited to come home, and to see him again. He mentioned that Yuri denied publicly that the blonde missed seeing him, but Victor had caught him talking to himself about plans to talk about meeting up.

_'Tell Yuri that I found a really good Japanese food shop in downtown. I think he'll be happy to know.'_

Yuuri wasn't going to hide that he had kept close tabs with Yuri since they had their own talk and understanding. Yuri was still a fan, even as he now stands at the precipice of four years retired. Yuri was young, talented, and wild, but Yuuri found it to be a charm of his. He felt happy knowing that they were friends, and that things were finally coming together for them both.

He slipped into his dark apartment with a sigh, flipping on the lights and setting his bag down on his small couch, stretching before placing his keys by the door, shutting the door, and flopping onto his comfortable recliner, opening up Instagram once again to look at a few of the comments left behind his own on Victor's picture.

_'@katsu_yuuri weren't you a skater once? I recognize that name!'_

His stomach dropped, plummeting before picking itself up in seconds. Since his retirement, and subsequent disappearance off the face of the earth, no one had recognized him. The account that left the comment didn't garner any responses curious by the comparison, expected of course after all that happened, but something curled into his chest.

Pride.

He hadn't felt pride for being recognized in a long time. Someone out there saw his instagram name be mentioned, and remembered that he was once a decorated skater in the spotlights. He couldn't help but smile, for once finding happiness in remembering the past. He shut down Instagram, and set his phone on his chest, looking up at his blank ceiling as he slipped into his thoughts.

Three years, almost four, of retirement from skating. And yet, there existed people, fans maybe, that still thought him relevant. His eyes went to his closet, wrapping his arms around himself.

How long has it been?

His phone vibrated gently, his hand quickly picking it up to see what was the cause: a text message from Yuri.

_'You & me when I get back.'_

Yuuri huffed a sigh. Demanding, but he wasn't going to say no to the chance of getting something to eat with him.

_'Deal. Now hurry up and get back with everyone.'_

Once the message had been sent, Yuuri set his phone on his lap, and looked to the closet doors once again, forlorn silence surrounding him. He hadn't thought about it for years, and had no intention to for so long. There was no reason to look back, to try and see the world he had once been in after recovery had begun. The idea of ever looking back, even in amusement or awe, didn't compute to him and hadn't in the years that had passed after his recovery. It hurt to look back, and it did nothing but depress and stress him in the beginning.

He sealed himself into a bubble of glass and ice, and hid there for safety. There was no need to look back, or a need to look down, knowing that if he did the precious bubble of protection and isolation he had built would shatter and crack, leaving him helpless and vulnerable to the memories and feelings he now connected to fear and devastation. There was nothing happy behind him, and looking down at his feet didn't allow him the freedom of ignoring his past. Looking forward had been a struggle, and he knew that even as he came into his new life, this new success as a stripper, he wasn't moving anywhere. He was stagnant, monotonous in his routine and actions. There was nothing pushing him forward, and everything threatening to push him back. 

He was happy, and he was allowing people in close once again, but still none could enter his solitude. He looked out to the edges of the clouded, foggy surface of his safety, seeing familiar hands and faces trying to come close, pressing against the somewhat cracked surface of his bubble, but he knew they could never reach. The pain was deeper then any of them knew, and he kept it quiet for reason. Everyone outside would see the reflection he allowed them to see, something standing tall and smiling, someone who looked to have finally gotten to his feet and moved on. He knew better, that he would never truly heal, but he enjoyed showing the illusion because he believed it watching from the inside of his bubble. It kept the guilt from taking hold too tightly.

Guilt. Guilty for putting so much on Phichit, and Chris, and Yuri. Guilty of abandoning everything and upsetting so many for selfish reasons. Guilty of being selfish and over his head, and allowing himself to suffer an accident.

As Yuuri stood from his recliner, he placed his phone down on the cushion, pausing to look to the closet once again, feeling his heart pound painfully in his chest, making it ache and scream for him to not think, to leave it be as he had for years. His legs were weighed down with lead, refusing to listen to the small, impulsive, hopeful voice within saying it was finally time to dare to open it. He moved slow around his chair, fingers skirted across the leather arm rest as he passed, wanting to hold onto it to physically stop himself from going closer. Cracks were forming, he knew, as he dared turn his head to try to look behind him, but he didn't care. Even with fear filling him as he approached the simple wooden doors, he didn't care. He clutched the brass knobs of the closet, breathing slowly as to keep calm.

With trembling fingers, Yuuri pulled open the doors of his closet, the hinges creaking and squeaking from lack of use, and looked behind him.

There was little inside what could amount to a broom closet. Four boxes were piled inside the dusty inside, all labeled with blue masking tape written over with black sharpie. The labels had been tampered with, the titles of the contents of the boxes scribbled over with more sharpie marks. The tower of boxes were dusty and showing their age, though none of the boxes looked ready to collapse. It was as if they had been placed inside a time capsule, seeing the light of day for the first time since being buried.

Yuuri's hands slid from the brass knobs as he stepped a foot into the closet, hands taking hold of the top box, but not yet moving it. Dust unsettled by his presence floated around him, dusted off the box as he grabbed it, his thumb brushing a path through the build up of dust. It had to have been years since he touched them; he safely bet that once these were in this closet the day he moved in, he hadn't opened it ever again. As he moved the box, a wave of dust kicked up into the air, sending him into a brief coughing fit until his head cleared from the dust storm rising up. He kicked the doors shut, ensuring the box in his hands didn't tumble to the ground. The clanging of metal could be heard as he shuffled away from the closet and back to his couch, setting the box onto his coffee table.

He took a few minutes to simply stare at it, sitting on his couch and looking at the dusty box. He wiped away the dust from the scribbled over title for it, vaguely making out a 'M' from the mess of sharpie scribbles to hide the declaration of what wait for him inside the box. Nervous hands squeeze his knees as he debates opening the box, fearing what would pop out once he broke the duct tape seal keeping the past from coming free. His fingers picked at the ends of the tape holding the flaps together, nails having to dig from an edge he could pull. Another pause, a deep breath. He was slow to pull the tape away, closing his eyes as he placed a hand on top of the box to steady it as he peeled away the duct tape, and allowed the insides to take in the new air. He stuck the now useless tape to the table for now, opened up the box, and peered inside.

Shining metals glinted up at him in the low light of his apartment, gold and silver and bronze. The spoils of his long lost career. Papers rested underneath the tangle of lanyards and their proper medals, of small trophies and honor plaques tucked with the announcements of his accomplishments. They shined as if they were fresh from the press, sitting in cases and awaiting to be put around his neck. He plucked a gold medal from the pile, struggling against the others and causing a cacophony of metal hitting metal to ring out as he attempted to untangle the chosen medal from the box. He was ultimately successful, but the sound left him anxious.

He ran his thumb over the small engravings on the gold medal. One of his many golds from Nationals. It looked to be just a tad duller then the others. Perhaps it had been his first Nationals gold. He couldn't tell. He replaced it into the box, and slowly tugged out a silver medal, immediately recognizing and dropping it as if it had burnt him.

His first Grand Prix silver. The routine he had dared copy once again, the moment his hard work and constant isolation finally meant something. 

The medal that started everything.

He was shaking as he picked up the medal, flipping it over in his palms, admiring the shine as it showed him his face, and the tears slipping down his cheeks.

The second place medal that had given him the best shot at his ultimate dreams.

His fingers tightened around it, slowly bringing it to his head as he let out a sob, hiding and masking his tears in the medal, in his hair, anything to hide the cracks showing through his shield. It was a horrible idea, a terrible idea, to look back, to see these once again. There was a reason he scribbled off the labels for the boxes, why they were shoved into their own closet and forgotten for years.

He lifted his head, letting the medal swing down from its lanyard, watching the silver glint ever so often as it twisted from side to side. Several heartbeats passed of him silently watching the medal twist and turn before he pulled it up and gripped it in his palm. He stared down at the reflection shown, realizing that he had done the same thing the moment he got the medal: look down at himself.

He spared a smile before he put the medal back in the box, and did his best to close the flaps of the box. He would reseal it with new tape once he found it, or bought more. He grabbed for his phone, unlocking it and looking to his inbox immediately, pulling up the messages that linger unanswered. The four waiting for him were all from Victor.

_'Yuuuuuuri we're on our way to the airport!'_

_'We should be back in town in about ten hours, I promise!'_

_'Just about to board. see you see yuuri~'_

_'Last text before takeoff! ive missed you'_

Yuuri couldn't help but glance at the box again, wanting it to disappear from sight, burn in a fire, and be nothing but ashes and dust. Distant memories that didn't plague him anymore with painful reminders that he could never wear another medal around his neck again, that there was no possible way he could ever come back to glory after so long. He refocused on the text messages, brushing the lingering and hot tears from his cheeks, and let his thumbs fly as he answered back.

_'I've missed you too. I need to see you as soon as possible. Please.'_

He would hit send, set it beside the box, and begin his search for the duct tape he hoped was in his apartment. He didn't want to dig through the box again, not after finding that specific medal. He was too shaken, still too damaged to dare look back so far. He needed to push it away, avert his gaze somewhere else up quickly before the cracks became too much in his armor and mask.

He wouldn't ever be ready to truly face the music of the past.

Not yet, the shadows hissed at him as he opened a cabinet.

Not yet, the dark corners hummed as he opened drawers in his bedroom.

Not now, his shadow whispered as he walked into the kitchen before heading back into his bedroom.

"Never." he told himself as he finally found the duct tape tucked into his desk, "Never."


	13. Lacy Tease

"We've landed at last!" Mila groaned as she stretched in her first class seat, looking out of the window as they rolled along the tarmac of the airport, bouncing gently with the plane as they settled back onto the ground. "It's already rolling into the night. This is going to be fun."

After a week in Russia, doing last minute meetings and prep on their home turf with their personal trainers, choreographers, teachers, and anyone else they needed for their upcoming competitions, they had finally returned to their home. Victor hadn't somehow tried to use his phone through the plane ride (which, Mila noted, was a miracle in itself considering how much he was talking about Yuuri through the entire trip) and as they came down, he finally caved to the temptation. He turned his phone back on as they slowly rolled to a stop, making way for another plane about to take off, and was met with one bright and early text from Yuuri sent a few hours ago. He probably was in the midst of takeoff when he got them, if he had to guess correctly from the timestamp despite the slight timezone change.

_'From: Eros Yuuri ❤_

_'I've missed you too. I need to see you as soon as possible. Please.'_

The buzz around him from his skating family was droned out by the beating of his heart. Despite tone not being the best portrayed through text messages, he could easily hear the nervous call for him through Yuuri's text. Yuuri needed him for something, comfort or a person to talk to. It also confused him why he was the one texted and not Phichit or Chris, considering that he was just becoming friends with Yuuri. If it was something concerning his past, the beautiful skating career he had, why was he Yuuri's first go to and not those who would know it better? Confusion and concern blurred through his body, glancing up just as they were moved into their terminal. He could hear the bustle from behind him in coach, despite that first and business class would be getting out first.

Mila nudged his arm, prompting him up out of his seat so she could scoot out and get her bag from the bin above them. Victor collected his bag from his feet, and helped Mila move her bag down, struggling as he tried to pull his down. Georgi grabbed for it just in time as it slipped out of his grip, thanking his brother on the ice as he settled it into his hands.

"Oi, Victor." Yuri called out, settling in his seat along the aisle as they waited for the doors to open, "Have you gotten anything from Katsuki?"

"When we get back to the rink, begin practicing your routines, see what can be improved before the competitions begin!" Yakov called out, earning immediate responses of confirmation from his skating time. Victor looked to Yuri as the cabin door opened, stewards letting them out at last.

"I did. I may need to make a detour to see him."

"What's wrong?" Yuri's voice was urgent, sticking to Victor as they left the plane, struggling with his backpack for a moment before focusing in again. Cameras were already going off as they vacated the plane.

"I don't know. He sent me a message after we boarded wanting to see me as soon as possible."

Yuri frowned but seemed to understand whatever Yuuri meant. "Go. I'll cover for you."

"Really?!" Victor's eyes lit up at the offer of support from the Ice Tiger. Yuri shrugged it off, though, keeping focused as they came into a small wave of fans welcoming them back.

"It's for Katsuki. At least get your shit to your place before you disappear, I'm not helping you move it."

"So mean, Yuri." Victor moaned as they stepped out into their terminal, focusing in the few fans that had come to welcome them back. He glanced over at Yuri as they moved on with the rest of the team, seeing his annoyed expression.

"Shut up, old man," Yuri hissed as they walked out of the airport, "and just go already with your crap! Tell him I expect to make good on his promise!"

"Will do!"

* * *

"Yuuuuuuuuuuri! Times up, time to get ready!"

Yuuri looked over the small collection of dancers as his name was called, smiling and nodding to Sara before she disappeared once again out of the small dance studio. He quickly told the few men and women around the pole he was wrapped around that he had to pause their impromptu training until further notice since he had to go out on stage. They watched as he took his hands off the pole and, using only his thighs wrapped around the metal pole, slid down effortlessly until he could easily come down onto his feet. His show of muscle control and strength earned him a round of applause as he collected his towel and water bottle, thanking them before leaving the studio on the chorus of a raunchy song beginning to play. He could hear the rumble and roar of the busy night crowd in Yu-topia, smiling as he moved through the backstage halls, slipping effortlessly into the official backstage to the chorus of other performers welcoming him back.

He weaved through the racks of clothes being pushed through the halls, running his hand up Chris' arm as he passed him as the Swissman was relaxing in the Lounge in only a tight thong, garterbelt and stockings. Yuuri knew it wasn't a completed outfit yet, but he knew there wasn't much left for tonight's ensemble.

"There you are, Eros~" Chris purred as Yuuri passed, grabbing his hand and kissing the back of it, "Ready for tonight?"

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, pulling off his glasses as he leaned down over Chris, running his fingers up his arm, teasing them up his neck and earning a pleased shiver from other man. 

"As ready as I'll ever be. Don't start without me, promise~?"

Chris couldn't help but shudder at Yuuri's voice dipping low, caressing his face before letting their resident star go. "I promise, I promise."

"Good boy," Yuuri teased, leaving Chris to his relaxing as he awaited the rest of his outfit, "I'll be out in fifteen."

"I'll be waiting, babe!"

Yuuri moved on, chuckling quietly to himself as he left the Lounge and headed for his dressing room, slipping inside and locking the door with a quick turn of the lock. He sauntered over to the ribbon-wrapped box set upon his vanity, knowing what awaited him inside the glittery silver box. Plucking the ribbons gently as to not ruin them, he unraveled his gift and pulled the top off with a flourish, smiling down at the beautiful set of black and red lingerie. He pulled each lacy piece out with delicate hands admiring it all.

Garterbelt, suspenders and stockings. Lacy thong that wouldn't hide an inch of his ass. Even a corset, which was pretty ballsy considering the talent in Yu-topia, but he knew he could pull it off. All of it was in beautiful detailed black, red bows and details in red making everything just ooze sex and danger, and that's what he was aiming for.

He strips of his shirt, throwing it out into the room without a look back, checking his ribs and making sure everything looks alright. He had slimmed down a little more, and he was impressed by how defined he seemed to be now. He would apply something to make him shine after he was dressed, though. He set his glasses down on the vanity as he shimmies out of his tight training shorts, setting them on the vanity before slipping the thong he had been wearing off and slinging it across the room with a laugh. He takes a moment to admire himself in the mirror, looking over his shoulder and making sure his muscles move properly when hit, that things look absolutely inviting when tightened. His evaluation ends with full marks, and he gets into his outfit for the night, adjusting the thong around for a moment so it covered what needed to be covered properly. He was so used to the string that he knew no adjustments were needed, and wouldn't be needed even through the night.

He eyes the corset for a moment before setting it aside, realizing that it would be of better use when he did private dances or just danced normally, and wouldn't be good at all if he did a pole routine. Later, he reminds himself, looking to his phone and turning it on, gazing at the date, once he's home.

He sets his phone down, and grabs for the garterbelt, adjusting it as it wraps snugly around his waist and fall a little toward his hips. He can't help but play with the small bows on it before slipping himself into the stockings, wiggling his toes to ensure the thick fishnets fit properly. He realizes that as he's pulling them up, they're just a little different from the rest of the set. They must have ordered him something different to factor in his thighs, he thinks to himself. He doesn't mind it, and welcomes it seeing as they hug his thighs instead of strangling them. He ensure the suspenders are attached correctly and struts around, making sure any wild movement wouldn't have him flying out of his uniform and that everything would be in place.

"Knock, knock!"

Yuuri chuckles and moves for the door, opening it to the sight of Phichit leaning on the doorframe, his eyes checking Yuuri out as he stands there. Yuuri admittedly blushes lightly at Phichit's staring, but welcomes him inside with a smile.

"I like it, red is a good color for you." Phichit notes as he saunters inside, pausing to wait for Yuuri to close the door and lock it again.

"Thanks, Phichit."

Phichit's eyes narrow as he sits up on one of the couch arms in his dressing room, watching almost with glee as Yuuri returns to the vanity,  leaning onto it and obviously teasing as he sticks his hips out for him.

"Really good."

"Phichit," Yuuri playfully scolds, going for his small jar of hair gel, playing with a piece of his bangs before looking to Phichit again, "Are you here to flirt with me again and stare, or are you here to help?"

Phichit smiled innocently, swinging his legs gently as Yuuri uncaps the jar and rubs a bit of the clear gel between his fingers but pushing his bangs up and beginning the process of gelling his hair back. Phichit hums quietly as Yuuri works, slipping off the couch and coming up behind Yuuri, who smiles as Phichit approaches him. It takes a few tries to get everything slicked back, but it eventually works. A few small strands end up escaping but he doesn't mind. Phichit wraps his arms around Yuuri, looking at him from around his shoulders.

"Would it be bad if I said I was here for both?"

"Phichit!"

Phichit chuckles quietly and kisses Yuuri's shoulder blades before moving to Yuuri's side, poking his ribs before plucking up his makeup case, popping the locks and opening it up with a grin.

"I know, I know, Yuuri. You're all embarrassed."

"Am not," Yuuri pouted, taking a little more hairgel and smoothing the more wavy parts of his hair beginning to stick out, "You know why."

"I do," Phichit hums thoughtfully, taking out a few different eyeliners, evaluating the brand, the color, the strength of them. "We had our time, I know. Still, I can't help but look back and think what could have happened."

Yuuri lets his fingers slip out of his hair, smiling fondly as he remembers. It had been a weird beginning, during college. They had explored, tested things, but ultimately nothing happened during his college years beyond more then that. It was after his accident, during recovery and through the years after it, that something seemed to spark, or Yuuri finally let his heart out and Phichit gave it back along with some of his own. It was something casual before it seemed to evolve in something more, something intimate and close. It had helped him get through losing most of his ability to feel emotions, and helped him get back up and out into the world. It had been a happy year he spent dating Phichit, and by the time the year had gone, and Phichit had to focus on skating, and Yuuri was finally beginning to learn things on his own, they effortlessly ended it without any feelings hurt or anything lost. They stayed friends, and if anything the time they spent dating had just made their relationship even closer and intimate. 

"I know, Phichit. You know, it still feels like it hasn't ended." Yuuri lamented, leaning on the vanity and taking a breath, smiling up at the ceiling, "I think sometimes about what would have happened if it did continue."

"But I know why it didn't, and that's okay," Phichit piqued, "It is nice to imagine what we would be doing if it did! Though... I can also see what's happening."

Yuuri arched an eyebrow, curious as to what Phichit was talking about. Was there someone in the club crushing on him, or was Chris actually going to act on his flirtations? "What do you mean?"

Phichit grinned as he continued looking through Yuuri's makeup. "You and Victor! You guys have been on coffee dates!"

"M-Meetups, they were meetups!" Yuuri defended himself immediately, going red in the cheeks, "And how do you know about them?"

"I have my ways, and by ways, I mean Chris." Phichit chuckled, picking out the makeup he wanted to use and setting them aside, closing up the makeup case slowly, "Don't worry, Yuuri! I can absolutely help you get Victor!"

"I-I don't need help! I'm fine, I'm fine! We're just friends."

"Friends don't almost kiss when they meet for the first time!" Phichit argued, getting Yuuri to gape but also realize where Phichit got all his information.

"W-we used to be competitors, you know that!" Yuuri shot back, his arguments weak and paper thin and he knew he wouldn't be able to defend it much longer. Phichit's grin grew.

"You didn't seem to realize it! You almost kissed him in this room the first night you danced with him there. You obviously feel something, and he has to feel something too!"

"I can't so this now, Phichit," Yuuri whined behind his hands, trying to subdue the burning in his cheeks, "I have to go out and work!"

Phichit leaned onto his shoulder, poking the back of his neck. "You aren't denying it~"

Yuuri grumbled out something behind his hands, refusing to answer but also still refusing to deny the accusations, and he knew he wouldn't. Phichit didn't push his teasing any further, smiling at Yuuri with sparkling eyes, excited for Yuuri. Yuuri eventually folded under Phichit's expectant smile and eyes, lowering his hands and looking off to the opposite wall before taking a deep breath. He looks to his hands for a moment, and then looks to Phichit.

"There's... something, but I don't want to push for it. I just want to see where this goes now that... he knows about what happened."

Phichit's smile calms, nodding in understanding as he makes a motion toward the vanity, offering his help once again to get him prepared for the night's events. Yuuri nodded in agreement, shaking off the fluster and the worries, and pulls up a chair, sitting before Phichit and closing his eyes in obedience as always. He knew Phichit always started with eyeliner. He could feel Phichit's fingers under his chin, angling it up so he could see his relaxed expression better. He could hear Phichit softly chuckle, saying something in Thai he couldn't quite understand, and then the pressure of the eyeliner pressed against his eyelids.

"If you want to make a leap with him, I'll be here to help and support you." Phichit quietly told him after a moment.

A hand was place on top of his, squeezing around them for a moment. Yuuri smile gently, and squeezed Phichit's hand back, relaxing into the chair and into his best friend's gentle touch, and the memories he had made, and the memories he's going to make soon.

"You're absolutely amazing, Phichit."

"Only the best for you. Now, no more talking until I'm done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the late chapter! As you can tell with how this ended, Eros' next big program is up next, and just in time for Victor to come home!
> 
> Thank you all for reading on this long, and don't forget to bookmark, comment and everything else! It gives me so much motivation to see you guys do that! See you next week!


	14. Maneater

"Alright, everyone! T-minus fifteen minutes!" their manager announced as she strolled in, drawing every dancer's eyes as she yelled out the news, "Let's have this night be the best one yet, we have a lot of high class clients out there, show them everything you got, ladies and gents! Show them what Yu-topia has to offer here in the Redlight."

The murmurs and chaos of the backstage continued on as normal as the manager left with a grin, seemingly approving of the noise and the excitement that came with tonight. Despite some of the stigma surrounding strip clubs in of themselves, they had several important people in the Hot Springs tonight. Yuuri didn't know what made them important, but with the fuss being made and the buzz around them seeming only to rise, he couldn't imagine the scope of what was going to happen. Perhaps it was a talent scout for a bigger club, or actually someone important in business or politics. It wasn't that uncommon for someone in the public eye to sneak out from their very public spaces into the privacy of a club, looking for stress relief and a good time. Yuuri popped a pretzel into his mouth as Phichit idly slicked back some of the stubborn strands of his hair, giving a satisfied nod as he finished and stepped back from him.

"You're all good, Yuuri~"

Yuuri looked up as Phichit planted his hands alongside Yuuri's head, smiling up as Phihcit smiled down at him. "What will you be doing now?"

"Technically, I should be getting over to my rink before Ciao Ciao ends up lecturing me for being late, but if you want, I can hang back a little longer if you want."

"Phichit," Chris interjected, crossing one leg over the other, smiling warmly at the Thai skater, "you should be practicing, you know. As much as we both love your company, you should be preparing for the season to begin. You're on the cusp of getting your first quad under your belt, correct?"

"Shouldn't you be practicing too?" Phichit shot back playfully before sighing and collecting his things, "but yes, you're right. I should be! I almost have it all figured out, I end up over rotating. I'll figure it out, I know it!"

" _Chôhk dee_." Yuuri threw over his shoulder as Phichit pulled his coat on. 

" _Kòp kun!_ Text me later, Yuuri!"

Before Chris could look up to Yuuri again, Phichit had gone on the winds of his first solidly landed quad. Yuuri was nervous that Phichit would get hurt landing it, but he trusted him. He had been practicing for so long, and he knew that Phichit would land it in time to use it in competition. It didn't help shake the nerves plaguing him at the thought, unable to stop his constantly moving thoughts from remembering what little he still could despite the holes being filled in by witness testimony. Chris' hand found Yuuri's knee, drawing him out of the nervous circle in time before he got caught in it. Yuuri sighed softly, taking Chris' hand into his own and kissing one of the knuckles before giving it back.

"Thanks."

"You're easy to read when you start thinking about it. Either that, or I've trained myself to notice every little hint." Chris admitted, smiling softly before adjusting one of his stockings, ensuring the suspenders connected to them were properly in place, "Regardless... I'm glad to help anytime. We can't have you spiraling tonight. Victor's come home, yes?"

The reminder of the news brightened Yuuri's expression as he smiled, "That's right, he's finally back in town. I hope he'll get here in time to see us on stage."

"To see  _you_." Chris corrected, "As much as we are friends, I know he's here to watch you absolutely dominate the stage."

"Do you think he's landed yet?"

Chris hummed in thought. "I should have grabbed my phone from my dressing room. I haven't a clue, _mon ami_ , but if you asked him to see you as soon as possible, he'll come regardless of the roadblocks."

Yuuri nodded, taking a deep breath. Victor would come here, he knew it. He had to trust Victor to show up. He stood up and adjusted his stocking again. He had to banish the thought of Victor missing out on tonight, knowing that if he missed seeing him tonight, he would probably have Victor finding him after his shift, or just after. Regardless, he would get to see him but he had hoped that he would get to see him for this performance.

"Eros, Philia!"

Yuuri and Chris' eyes were on Sara as she called for him, clipboard in hand as she beckoned them to follow her.

"It's showtime, boys."

Chris chuckled as he stood up, meeting Yuuri's eyes as he wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers teasing his hip as they moved down. Yuuri had to pass a heated look to him as his hand touched, but didn't push him away. If anything, he leaned into Chris. Sara rolled her eyes playfully as she led them out of the lounge and through one of the halls, the crowd parting for them as they walked side by side, arms wrapped around eachother's waists, ready to show off their skills on stage.

"Oh, by the way. Your shoes are waiting for you behind the curtains." Sara informed them, smiling.

"Oh~?" Chris hummed, smirking.

Sara grinned.

"You can't walk out in lingerie like that without a good pair of heels."

* * *

Victor had barely enough time to burst into his apartment, throw his things into the living room, slip on a better jacket then his team one, and grab his VIP badge before he was off running down the streets toward the Redlight, checking his phone as the time ticked ever closer toward midnight. The curtains around his opportunity to see Yuuri tonight were beginning to close, the curtain call coming up too quickly. He was exhausted as he rushed around another corner, going headfirst into the Redlight as he followed the street. He was, in no way, a sprinter like this. His stamina was shot through and dead, and he knew he could feel his lungs and body immediately beg him to stop running and take a decent breath and a long break before he collapsed.

He had no choice. He could see the neon of the Yu-topia sign at last, and laughed in celebration. He had made it just in time.

Victor slowed as he came to the building, the crowd in line noticing him immediately as he panted and caught his breath as he walked up to the guard at the door. Some waved and some groaned as he flashed his badge, and the guard welcomed Victor in with a warning that he should hurry before Eros begins performing. As he stepped in, he had to put his hand on his chest, willing his lungs to take in more air despite it now being thick with smoke and the heavy weight of the alcohol. He moved through quickly to the Hot Springs, surprised to find it completely pack. The normally singular stage had been swapped out with one wider with multiple poles at the four outstretched stages, like a four pointed star. The middle dropped down lower then the rest of it, almost appearing to fade into the floor.

Some of the patrons surrounding the stages welcomed him in, giving him a spot right up front before one of the four main stage shootouts. He thanks the welcoming patrons and took his spot, settling into the plush chair with a relieved sigh. He had made it in time. He took a moment to absorb the mood of the room, finding himself excited.

After so long without seeing Eros perform, he would get to see him dance and work the pole again. He would get to see Yuuri put his hours of practice to work, and the excitement boiled his blood. Even with the [music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=inHbha2nyPs) being slightly overpowered by the rumbling excitement in the room, he could feel everything come together.

A hush suddenly fell over the Hot Springs, his eyes drawn to the middle of the stage, his back straightening, as Sara rose out from a small rolling plume of pink smoke. Cheers arose as Sara took a bow, stepping onto the stage.

"Welcome, dear patrons of the Hot Springs. Tonight we have a special treat for all of you."

A new beat began pounding through the speakers, and everyone was leaning forward in their chairs. Victor hadn't expected this or anticipated it. A special treat? He noticed in the corner of his eyes the lights starting to shift colors.

"In celebration of recent events for our lovely performers, they have decided to treat you all to the grandest of performances to come to the Hot Spring stage. Our four muses have gathered here to give all of you, both paying patrons and precious VIPs-"

A cheer went up as the woman nearby Victor singled him out, some of the men around the room, as well as some of the women from nights prior, recognized him immediately. He took it in stride, realizing that he couldn't exactly hide the VIP badge around his neck, or the sparkling gold signature of Eros on the back of it. Sara gave him a nod of her head, returning to announcing.

"-a sweet, succulent treat. Ladies and gentlemen! Prepare yourself for the more intricate performance to date! Let me welcome our Erotes."

The smoke rolling around Sara's feet began to pour out as a gentle white light focused in on the hole in the center of the stage. Sara stepped back from it, raising her hand, palm down, over it.

"Storge!"

A small, but rambunctious group of cheers sounded out from the crowd as, out of the white smoke, rose a brown, long haired beauty. Her skin glowed in the light, highlighting the gold in her hair as she stood out on the stage in a halter bra, and the thinnest pair of panties Victor had ever seen. He noticed that on her back was tattooed wings, oddly appropriate considering that the group to perform were called Erotes. He focused back on Sara, not entirely interested in Storge. He was waiting for his Erote, his precious white-winged angel.

"Agape!"

The smoke rising turned a gentle yellow, a buttercream color, as another woman rose from the beautiful smoke. Victor was surprised though as this woman stepped out and immediately shed her top, revealing nothing more then criss-crossed straps with satin drapes down the sides covered her. The crowd was fired up by the arrival of the blonde Agape, perhaps she was a fan favorite for other acts. Victor admired how into it she seemed, keeping close to Storge as she settled on stage in front of the crowd. Sara locked onto him, and he found himself leaning in.

"Philia!"

Victor leaned back with a chuckle, recognizing the name immediately. Effortlessly out of the pink smoke rose Chris, and Victor had to admit Chris was absolutely rocking his outfit. Tight,  _tighter then should be allowed_ , booty shorts with a heart cut into the back to tease, and beautiful ripped stockings held up to a lacy garterbelt. He gave a whistle along with the others that approved, getting Chris to wink at him. Twirling his finger around to entice Philia, Victor leveled a heated stare at him as he walked his length of runway. Chris leveled back a sultry grin before twirl and presented his wonderfully bare assets, and earning another loud round of hollering and cheers.

He suddenly stopped, posing with legs spread. Agape and Storge mirrored it, the lights dropping, the bass giving one last booming sound before it went quiet. Red light filtered over the stage in a wave, until it centered on the hole in the middle of the stage. The other Erotes took two steps to it, cocking their hips to one side, planting one hand on their hips and the other stretched out from their side.

The song [changed](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I512Mgmb678&list=LLO5012b8lhUA4mnyfxX6Mug&index=4) on cue as the trio announced their final member.

"Eros!"

The entire Hot Springs was on its feet, Victor included, as the crowd went wild. The lights, spotlights, all of it, focused on the rising platform coming into sight. Eros, in all of his gorgeous, tantalizing, teasing, sexual glory, was raised into sight like a god celebrated by millions. Victor couldn't look away for a second as he joined the chorus with a sharp whistle, absolutely hypnotized by how Eros was present as this almighty figure around the others. As he finished rising, the other Erotes raised their outstretched arms, spun around to look at Eros, and helped him done onto the stage like loyal disciples welcoming home their king.

He was everything Victor imagined after such a long time without him: shining like diamonds against a black sky, covered head to toe in shining glitter and dust. Wear the most beautiful set thin black stockings with red thread designs leading to a black lace garterbelt with red bows. His hair was slicked back once again, leading him to stare into deep brown eyes that captivated him and left him absolutely breathless, leaning on his table and thanking that his arms hadn't given out as he leaned forward in awe. Eros rolled his body and ran his hands through his hair, turning his head and letting his mouth open in an aroused expression, licking his bright red lips to tease endlessly. Victor was left breathless as he looked down Eros' body, looking over the black lace and red ribbons on the garterbelt, the thin black lace stockings with stitched designs leading down his thick thighs. His gaze fell further until he was met with ruby red heels, and Victor was left agape.

The song continued to pound over the sound of the crowd, the trio of Erotes moving down their selected paths with sultry swings of their hips, teasing with the prospect of removing items off of them. Eros hadn't moved from his spot, looking over the crowd, running his hands over his body, endlessly teasing and refusing to look his way, walk down the runway leading practically to him. Once the other Erotes were in position at the end of theirs, Agape teasing her crowd by casually spinning around her pole. At last, Eros looked to him, and smiled warmly. Victor gave a relieved sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, opening them to the sound of the room going quiet, and Eros' heels clicking against the stage as he walked down the runway.

Eros beckoned him closer as he leaned into each step, making the best of his beautiful hips and his heels. The table in front of him moved out of his way as he came to the stage, the crowd around them screaming in his ear, but it all didn't matter to Victor. All he could hear was the silent chuckle under Eros' breath, and the sound of his heels getting closer and closer. He rested his elbows at the edge of the stage, leaning into a palm as Eros sauntered up to him. Eros' smile was dangerous, and he thanked everything and everyone that he was the only one to ever get him to smile like that so sincerely. He leaned up as Eros wrapped a hand around stripper pole in front of him, casually sliding up against it as he swung low around it, sending Victor back just a step in case. Without so much of an effort, Eros was on his feet again, approaching Victor and happily kneeling down to stroke his face and sweep back his bangs to see his eyes. Victor leaned into Eros' hands, so relieved to feel Eros' hands again.

"There you are," Victor murmured, "You know how to make an entrance."

"I do my best," Eros purred, tracing one ruby painted nail down Victor's face. His eyes trailed to the cash being pushed toward him, women and men encouraging his actions. "I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time to see me."

"I wouldn't miss you for the world," Victor said breathlessly, "I ran here as quick as I could when I landed."

"I'm so happy you made it." Eros' pure sex persona faded to reveal the elation of Yuuri underneath, only for a moment though. He returned with lowered eyes and teasing touches as his hand caressed Victor's cheek.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you, Victor. So happy to see my VIP back on his throne..."

Victor melted under the praise and Eros' touch, leaning into the stage as Yuuri tempted him closer. The crowd around them cheered them on, one of the woman slipping a chair near him. Victor knelt on top of the chair, lifting him up a few inches to be level with Eros' face. Victor could get a clear look now at Eros' makeup. Ruby red lipstick that made his lips pop, a brushing of glitter everywhere he looked. His eyeshadow was smoky and easy, letting his eyelashes pop with how bold they appeared. He leaned into Eros' thumb as he stroked his cheek, a hand gripping one of Eros' thighs to balance him.

"My beautiful, special VIP... _Victor_."

The sound of the room around them exploding was a distant echo, a background noise muffled and lost to the night. All Victor could hear was his heartbeat, deafening and pounding in an endless drum line. It pounded in his chest so powerfully, it was a painful pleasure.

The club faded, the lights dimmed, the stage fell away. The night disappeared, the city's lights dimmed and faded away.

All that remained was the feeling of Eros' lips on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating for more then a month! I lost inspiration, and I was hit with such a hard writer's block, and I struggled to write. I should be back now with more updates, and I'm hoping to keep to a weekly or bi weekly update schedule. Nevertheless, Yu-topia is back!
> 
> Translations:
> 
> โชคดี - chôhk dee - Good luck!


End file.
